DUKE 
UNIVERSITY 


Presidents and Pies 


UHAW LAOH LV HONNT SSOWD Ga4a V LV LAVI LNACISHad 
HId V GNV LINHCISdadd V 


PRESIDENTS AND 
z PIES 
Life in Washington 


BY 
ISABEL ANDERSON 


With Illustrations 


BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
The Riverside Press Cambridge 

1920 


DEDICATED 
WITH MUCH LOVE TO MY SISTER 
ELSIE McMILLAN 
WITH WHOM 
I ASSOCIATE MY EARLY DAYS IN WASHINGTON 


FOREWORD 


A CELEBRATED novelist once said, “‘If you write 
from the outside, you will soon reach the end of 
your material, but if you write from the inside, 
you can continue forever — you are never written 
out. It is like drawing on a well which is fed from 
an inexhaustible spring.’’ But yet, though I have 
written more travel books than fairy stories, I 
have hopes that my well will never prove empty. 
No doubt it will need to be replenished, but 
twenty years in Washington, with its statesmen 
and diplomats, with its people from all over the 
world, with its wars and its crises, ought to 
furnish some underground spring. At any rate, 
I shall send the bucket down and see what is 
brought up. 

I am anxious to record my memories of old 
Washington before the World War, as well as the 
changes brought about by it, for we all feel that 
many of the changes have come to stay, and that 
the city will never be quite the same again. I 
started out simply to tell a little of the life in 
the Capital during the administrations of the last 


Vili FOREWORD 


four executives, ending with the war-time canteen 
here; in other words, to talk of Presidents and 
Pies, but as I ramble on, there are more I’s than 
pies and more parties than politics. 

Unlike a recent autobiographer, I shall not skip 
a decade or so without a word of explanation. 
If there are gaps and empty spaces in this narra- 
tive, it is because my notes were taken at vary- 
ing intervals and must be considered more or less 
fragmentary. For a time we lived in Brussels and 
Japan, for eight months during the present war 
I worked in France and Belgium Libre, and 
throughout several administrations the spring 
saw us taking trips or returning to our country 
place in Brookline. 

“‘What’s the point in writing a book about 
your home town?”’ asked an interested friend. 
“To get yourself into trouble? Rather risky to 
write about Washington when you live there, it 
seems to me.’”’ She added suggestively, “And 
it’s your thirteenth book, too, is n’t it?” 

“Well, it may be risky,’’ I answered, ‘‘but Ill 
run the chance, for it isn’t my thirteenth book, 
but the fourteenth, you see, so the hoodoo must 
be lifted.”’ 


FOREWORD ix 


Nevertheless, I realize that I have undertaken 
a delicate task. Some people who have not been 
mentioned may wish they had, and some who 
have been mentioned may wish they had n’t. 
Moreover, some of the caricatures and comments 
on human frailties may not be appreciated. But 
at least my conscience is clear, for it has all been 
done in a kindly spirit and without malice, wish- 
ing no man ill and all men well. 

I want to thank Miss Katherine K. Crosby and 
Miss Esther Bates for helping me collect my scat- 
tered notes, and also the National Magazine for 
allowing me to reprint several articles. 


CONTENTS 


. LooKING BACK 

. “A RED TORCH FLARED ABOVE His HEAD”’ 
. RouGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 

. PARTIES AND POLITICS 

. ENTER Mr. TAFT 

. SUNDRY VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 
. CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 

. Divers DEMOCRATS 

. ALLIED MIssIons 

. PIES 

. A Torsy-Turvy CAPITAL 


. ROYALTIES ARRIVE 


24 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


A PRESIDENT AND A PIE: PRESIDENT TAFT AT 
A RED Cross LuncH AT Fort MYER fat 
Frontispiece 


Drn1nc-Room, ANDERSON HousE, WASHINGTON 8 
TENNIS CABINET DIPLOMA 28 


THE PRESIDENT’S BIRTHDAY PARTY: A FANTASY 32 
Drawn by JoHn T. McCutcHEON 


Moss AND SHELLS FROM FLORIDA: WELD GARDEN 52 


OuTDOOR STAGE: WELD GARDEN 64 

THE DUKE OF THE ABRUZZI 76 
Caricature by Morcan DENNIS 

Tuomas NELSON PAGE 80 
Caricature by CLARY Ray 

WHERE THE DUKE LUNCHED: WELD GARDEN 84 

CAPTAIN ARCHIBALD BuTT 106 
Caricature by CLARY Ray 

GENERAL CLARENCE R. Epwarps 106 
Caricature by CLARY Ray 

ANDREW J. PETERS 112 
Caricature by CLARY Ray 

NIcHOLAS LoNGWoRTH 112 


Caricature by CLAry Ray 


Larz ANDERSON: A DIPLOMAT 116 
A Newspaper Caricature 


xiv ILLUSTRATIONS 


REAR-ADMIRAL WILLIAM SHEFFIELD COWLES 
Caricature by CLARY Ray 


CoMMANDER (NOW REAR-ADMIRAL) ALBERT P. 
NIBLACK 
Caricature by CLARY RAy 


DANCER IN Miss PorTER’s PLAY AT WELD, 1916 


PRESIDENTIAL GOLF 
A Newspaper Cartoon 


NIcHOLAS LONGWoRTH’s DILEMMA 
Drawn by Mrs. BELLAMY STORER, 1910 


A SWEET DREAM oF PEACE: A PREPAREDNESS 
CARTOON 
Drawn by W. A. RoGErRs 


VisIT OF MARSHAL JOFFRE AND Mk. JOFFRE TO 
KING ALBERT AND QUEEN ELIZABETH AT THEIR 
VILLA NEAR THE BELGIAN FRONT, MARCH 21, 
1918 


CANTEEN WORKERS 

A RED Cross TRAVELING KITCHEN 
BALL-Room, ANDERSON HousE, WASHINGTON 
GALLERY, ANDERSON HousE, WASHINGTON 


THE KING OF THE BELGIANS 
Caricature by MorGan DENNIS 


THE QUEEN OF THE BELGIANS 


Tue PRINCE OF WALES 
Caricature by Morcan DENNIS 


THE PERSHING PARADE, SEPTEMBER 15, 1919 
Photograph from an Aeroplane 


124 


124 


134 
150 


158 


166 


PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


CHAPTER I 
Looking Back 


In Washington there is always something new 
under the sun. No other place is just like it in this 
respect — perhaps our republican form of govern- 
ment with its constant changes is responsible. 
Prominent men arrive, take up their duties for a 
time and depart again; only the Justices of the 
Supreme Court remain for life. Watching the 
administrations come and go, we have seen no 
two alike, what with the shifting group of foreign 
envoys and the men whom our own States send 
here to represent them. Influenced by climate 
and the various racial strains that people their 
part of the country, the Senators and Congress- 
men are strongly differentiated — descendants of 
Kentucky mountaineers, New England seafaring 
men, Nebraska pioneers, Florida Crackers — men 
of the North and the South and the East and the 
West, met together here to frame laws, and inci- 


2 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


dentally to make the Capital the most interesting 
city in America. 

There are many points of view from which to 
write about Washington — indeed, no two people 
would be likely to describe it in the same way. 
I am no historian to dive into Congressional 
archives, no politician to record the disputes of 
House and Senate, no diplomat, no sociologist, 
humorist, nor reformer. Mine is the point of view 
of one who has lived here for twenty years and 
who has met and listened to the “Senators, hon- 
orables, judges, generals, commodores, govern- 
ors, and the ex’s of all these, as thick as pick- 
pockets at a horse-race or women at a wedding 
in church ... ambassadors, plenipotentiaries, 
lords, counts, barons, chevaliers, and the great 
and small fry of legations’’ who make the life 
here so varied and fascinating. Some politics, a 
touch of history, a dash of description, with a 
flavor of social affairs — such are the ingredients 
of my ‘‘pie,’’ which, whatever its faults, I hope 
may not sit heavily on the reader’s digestion. 

Of all the cities in the country, Washington 
is the one where the social life is most impor- 
tant. This is true, obviously, of any capital, for 


LOOKING BACK 3 


such a regime is absolutely necessary for carry- 
ing on much of the diplomatic and political busi- 
ness of the nation. But it is especially true of 
Washington, where there are only a few first- 
class restaurants or theaters, and little good art 
or music. To be sure, an artist may appear for a 
few weeks to paint some political celebrity, and 
we do have a week of opera in the spring, the 
Philadelphia orchestra and the Boston Symphony 
occasionally come, and singers give concerts now 
and then in halls or private houses; but that is 
about all. 

As a consequence, one dines out continually. 
This gives people a chance to see each other 
under the pleasantest circumstances, and affairs 
of state and of international importance may be 
talked over informally and in that best of humors 
which comes after a good dinner. The diplo- 
mat secures most of his information or quietly 
spreads his propaganda either at table or after- 
wards in the smoking-room. When official confer- 
ences are held, a certain procedure and precedence 
have to be maintained, and the appointment is 
sure to be published or made subject to surmise. 
A certain group of prominent Senators who used 


4 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


to meet for a game of cards regularly were able 
to accomplish more, perhaps, in one session than 
they could during days of parliamentary proce- 
dure in the upper chamber of Congress. So it is 
that the social life of a capital is not merely a 
matter of pleasure, as in other cities, but of 
business as well. 

In the olden days it was so much of a village 
that in La Fayette Park and Dupont Circle 
people met and gathered in groups — Senators, 
Representatives, Cabinet Ministers, and Diplo- 
mats, with a mixture of old residents—and talked 
over the news of the day. These were called 
‘‘curbstone receptions” and were very delightful 
affairs. 

There is a continual coming and going. Ac- 
quaintances are quickly made, and quite as 
quickly forgotten. You meet a friend who, you 
think, may have left town for over Sunday, and 
say, ‘‘Hello, where have you been?” And he 
answers, perhaps, ‘“‘Oh, I’ve been five years in 
Rio!” But for all this it is a friendly city — or 
was, in the days before the Great War — “a 
city of conversation,’”’ Henry James called it — 
a place of handshakes and welcomes and cheer- 


LOOKING BACK 5 


ful greetings, unhurried and unworried. There 
was always time to smile, and one always felt 
like smiling. 

The city is unique among capitals for its lack 
of pomp and parade — I can’t say that foreigners 
have ever been very enthusiastic about it as a 
post on that account. The Roosevelt and Taft 
administrations were, perhaps, on the whole, the 
gayest, for the White House entertained gener- 
ously and handsomely — dinners, receptions, and 
garden parties. The Cabinet members sought to 
play their parts well, and received with distinc- 
tion. Many fine private houses had already been 
established where, during those brilliant days, 
entertaining was done with discrimination and 
taste. But nevertheless, the elegance and formality 
of foreign capitals, as well as the gayety of restau- 
rant life, have always been lacking. : 

Washington is, of course, the most beautiful of 
American cities. Our first President himself chose 
the site here on the Potomac. He was one of the 
few who realized the possibilities of the location, 
which most people derisively termed a mud-hole. 
It was only when L’Enfant, the young French 
officer, had laid out its great avenues, and the 


6 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


town began to take form and substance, that its 
beauty became apparent. 

One day as we were entering the Senate we saw 
so many policemen that I inquired what the 
trouble was. ‘‘Oh, they’ve just dug up a man who 
has been dead eighty years,” some one said. It 
proved to be the body of L’Enfant. The Govern- 
ment wished to erect a monument over his grave, 
but the people on whose land he had been buried 
would not consent for fear they would be annoyed 
by sight-seers. So after a fitting ceremony and 
speeches at the Capitol by the Vice-President and 
the French Ambassador, his body was removed, 
first to Annapolis and later to Arlington. 

It has taken a century for L’Enfant’s vision to 
become a reality, and now, with its many splendid 
colonnades, with the beauty of the long sweep 
from the Capitol to the White House, with the 
parks, the shining river, and the misty hills be- 
yond, it is a reality that becomes a vision. When I 
close my eyes I see it as a white city which the 
setting sun leaves in a mysterious veil of pink mist. 
Above it all the wonderful shaft of the Washington 
Monument ‘‘seems to link heaven and earth in 
the darkness, to pierce the sky in the light.” 


LOOKING BACK 7 


Like green spokes to a wheel, the streets during 
the spring stretch out from the bright flowering 
Circles making cool and shaded aisles with their 
fine old trees whose boughs meet overhead. To 
the north one may continue on into wild Rock 
Creek Park, riding or motoring for miles on the 
hilly slopes by the winding brook, beneath the 
pink bud and the starry dogwood. Japanese 
cherry trees bloom along the speedway by the 
broad Potomac and the Basin, and here one can 
walk or drive between flower-bordered paths in 
the perfumed air and listen to the music of the 
Marine Band. Watching a game of polo or gazing 
up at the airplanes skimming about overhead, 
one thinks of the changes since the early days 
when Indians fought on the surrounding hills, and 
frigates bearing colonists sailed up the river, and 
log huts nestled in the Virginia woods. 

Driving along the bank, by the old canal 
toward Great Falls, passing darky cabins with 
piccaninnies playing outside, one comes to where 
Defoe’s hero, Colonel Jacque, is supposed to have 
lived. He was an English boy, kidnaped, ‘‘as was 
the fashion in the time of Queen Anne,” and sold 
into slavery in Virginia. His story is typical of 


8 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


that class of men, the white slaves of the late 
seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Driv- 
ing back again through the twilight, and into the 
town once more, one sees great houses loom up, 
with negro cabins huddling close by. These cabins, 
once so characteristic of Washington, are fast 
disappearing. 

It was in 1897, during the administration of 
President McKinley, that we settled in Washing- 
ton. My husband had formerly lived here for 
many years, however, and his mother could 
remember when there was ‘‘an earth road, or 
village street, with wheel-tracks meandering from 
the colonnade of the Treasury hard by, to the 
white marble columns and front of the Post- 
Office and Patent-Office which faced each other 
in the distance, like white Greek temples in 
the abandoned gravel-pits of a deserted Syrian 
city.” 

In looking through L.’s journal I came upon 
this bit, written at the time of McKinley’s elec- 
tion, and recalling so vividly the uproar that 
Bryan’s cry for the free coinage of silver aroused: 
“Thank God, our country is saved! Here in 
Washington, though there was less excitement, 


NOLONTHSVM ‘HSNO NOSYAANV ‘WOOW-ONINIG 


LOOKING BACK 9 


perhaps, than elsewhere, yet there was more real 
appreciation of the terrible importance of the 
day’s election, for the national honor was felt to be 
at stake. The first excitement occurred when Mrs. 
Blaine sent over a telegram telling of New York’s 
big vote. I hurried round to the club, where a spe- 
cial wire told the latest news, and came back to 
tell the Blaines what was then known; afterwards 
I went back to the club and stayed till midnight. 
When everything was settled I came home to 
bed. So it is all over, and well over.” As time 
goes on, it seems as if every election was vital and 
all-absorbing — and, indeed, they are. 

The White House did little entertaining during 
the administration which followed, partly because 
the McKinleys were simple people and partly 
because of Mrs. McKinley’s ill-health. The Presi- 
dent made a very distinguished appearance, how- 
ever, with his fine head and aquiline nose, and his 
dignified yet kindly manner. Although sometimes 
called “‘the pacifier,” he had a splendid record in 
the Civil War, having been brevetted major for 
gallant services. (I think nearly all the Presidents 
up to Taft’s time had had some military training.) 
After the war he became a lawyer, and in 1876 


10 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


was elected to the House of Representatives. His 
““McKinley Bill’? of 1890 for reduced revenues 
and very high customs duties, which put sugar 
on the free list and protected many young indus- 
tries, brought him at once into prominence. Later 
he became Governor of Ohio, and in 1896, after a 
campaign conducted by the great Mark Hanna, 
he was nominated for President. 

Once in office, he gathered clean, efficient men 
about him, and then —a proceeding quite re- 
freshing to remember in these days — gave them 
the credit for everything! Various questions came 
up that seemed momentous at the time — the 
annexation of Hawaii and the Samoan group; the 
Boxer outbreak and our participation in the 
march of the allies on Pekin; Aguinaldo’s revolt, 
and the bitter protest against imperialism led by 
men like Hoar and Reed and Carl Schurz. As each 
situation arose, people felt that the country was 
going to the dogs then and there, but we managed 
to survive somehow and go ahead, and I suppose 
we shall still. 

An Anglo-American alliance was put through 
which divided the press of the country into a 
party that praised and one that derided. “Life” 


LOOKING BACK II 


came out with a skit which, in its second stanza, 
proved somewhat prophetic: 
“The Eagle and the Lion 
Went walking hand in hand. 
They laughed like anything to see 
Such quantities of land; 
“If it could all belong to us 
I think it would be grand.’ 


If seven kings with seven hosts 
Should want the reason why, 
Do you suppose,’ the Eagle said, 
‘We’d funk it, you and I?’ 

‘I doubt it,’ said the Lion, 
And winked a humble eye.” 


An ominous situation had developed in Cuba, 
where, after ten years of insurgent warfare against 
Spain, the natives were being rapidly extermin- 
ated. So many barbarities were inflicted on them, 
in fact, that at last our Government warned Spain 
that her war must be conducted in a more humane 
manner. On the 9th of February intervention in 
Cuba was discussed, and six days later the battle- 
ship Maine was blown up. Spain instantly dis- 
avowed the affair and regretted the “incident” 
as she called it, but the United States was hot for 
a fight. 


12 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Washington was in a hubbub. The White House 
buzzed with excitement, and messages kept pour- 
ing in from all over the country, both private and 
official. Newspapers from Seattle to New Orleans 
sent their representatives on post-haste until 
reporters and correspondents blocked the corri- 
dors. In spite of the fact that neither President 
McKinley nor Speaker Reed wanted hostilities, 
and that diplomacy made strenuous efforts for 
more than two months to avert them, on the 25th 
of April war with Spain was formally declared. 

But even then I did not feel that it was really 
upon us until one morning I was awakened by a 
band playing ‘‘The Stars and Stripes Forever,” 
and looking out of the window saw our old friend, 
Colonel Sumner, marching by at the head of his 
troops. Later we went down to Chickamauga 
where the big national park with its many monu- 
ments commemorates the battle of the Civil War. 
A large military camp was already there — and 
another has been stationed in the same place dur- 
ing the World War. 

My husband had offered his services and one 
day in May received his commission. Soon after 
our return to Washington I saw him ride off on 


LOOKING BACK 13 


Soldier Boy, a horse that he had bought from 
Buffalo Bill (thinking the animal would be used 
to gun-fire, but he proved to be afraid of a baby 
carriage), bound for Camp Alger, twelve miles 
out of the city, to report for assignment. He 
had been made a captain on the staff of General 
Davis, who afterwards became military governor 
of Porto Rico, and who was already widely known 
as the man who finished the Washington Monu- 
ment. 

While my husband was in service I naturally 
wanted to do my part in whatever way seemed 
best. There were few things to be done by women 
at that time. There had been still less for them 
to do in the Civil War, and there has been so 
much more in the Great War. But we could make 
sponges and slings, of course, and roll bandages. 
Abdominal bands were especial favorites, for the 
doctors had a notion then that they were neces- 
sary in the tropics. 

The Colonial Dames and the Daughters of the 
Revolution formed committees to look after the 
families of the soldiers. I was a member of both, 
and during the summer which I spent in Wash- 
ington had several families to visit and see that 


14 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


they did not starve, because some of the soldiers 
were very remiss about sending money home. It 
was almost identical with the work that the 
Home Service Branch of the Red Cross has been 
doing lately on a broader scale. 

Occasionally I visited Camp Alger and took out 
good things to eat for my husband and his friends, 
such as huckleberry puddings, and capons —arti- 
cles of diet not included in the army rations. Sev- 
eral times the general in command invited me to 
mess with the officers, perhaps in return for my 
services in thus helping out the commissary. I 
also used to visit the hospitals to find out what 
was especially needed, and one day a doctor asked 
me for ten gallons of paregoric. Fancy the surprise 
of the druggist when I ordered it! 

My husband’s letters give some vivid glimpses 
of the military life of that day. “I feel as if I had 
been here always,”’ he wrote; ‘‘this morning I had 
a great deal to do, for everything went wrong all 
over the camp. It was one of those awful days! 
And everybody who knew how to do anything had 
gone away, and the few who did things, did them 
wrong, and so I was in a great state of excitement, 
and worried about papers, and matters generally. 


LOOKING BACK 15 


Late in the afternoon I took to the woods for a 
few quiet moments. It’s an ideal night, fresh and 
cool, while a lovely crescent moon is floating in 
the sky, making weird shadows in the grove where 
our tents are pitched. There is a group of officers 
now outside my tent talking. At last volunteers 
have come who don’t know as much as I do! And 
the colored cook and ‘striker’ are making more 
noise than any of the rest. The sentries have been 
posted and guards on duty, and after taps the 
camp will be quiet. ... Tattoo is just sounding 
(and the mules are, too) and in a little while all 
good soldiers should put out their lights and go 
to sleep to dream of home.” 

A little later he wrote: “I am feeling finely, 
though my vaccination seems to be taking. The 
General goes into town to-night on business, so I 
may not leave camp. I feel very important, and 
then to be addressed as ‘General’ is very fine. 
To-day I overheard two of the orderlies talking, 
and one said, in a fearful whisper, ‘All these fel- 
lows here are kernals, no matter what uniform 
they wear, and they have them court-martials 
here, too!’ 

“T went this morning with General Davis on a 


16 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ride through the camp, and to-morrow I am to go 
with him on an all-day reconnaissance back into 
Virginia. The General has to visit the site of a 
camp.” : 

Later: ‘‘We had a day of it! At Manassas we 
were a source of joy to the Sunday loafing element. 
They tried to sell us poor decrepit nags, and the 
old duffers talked of the last war, of Bull Run, 
and the battles round Manassas. Then we started 
off in an ancient chaise with a darky and drove 
about the lovely country, and ate our sandwich 
Iuncheon under the trees by a little creek. 

“Well, we rode on through wheat-fields, the 
Bull Run mountains in the distance, and the 
Blue Ridge beyond. We passed a settlement of 
Dunkards; the women of that sect so clean in 
their poke bonnets with their pretty, prim faces 
and the men in their Sunday-go-to-meeting best 
were all returning from church in gigs and bug- 
gies. The General and I got as far as Catlett, 
and then took a train back, with six miles still to 
drive through the blackness to camp, passing the 
pickets by their blazing fires, and sentinels crying 
‘Halt!’ — on to our quarters.” 

An outbreak of typhoid occurred, and soon it 


LOOKING BACK 17 


was raging at Camp Alger. In order to prevent a 
further spread of the epidemic, L.’s division of 
ten thousand men was ordered to start at a few 
hours’ notice on an extended march through 
Virginia. Little notes by the way ran as follows: 

“August 4, Barker Station, Va. Oh, we have 
had a time of it, — sent off by orders at a too 
short notice, without enough wagons, though they 
were promised us, and forced to march on a hot 
day with no military incentive. The men have 
been undisciplined and difficult to manage. As 
this is the largest body of marching men to shift 
camp since the war began, it has been a job. I was 
up till two and awoke again at five yesterday, and 
to-day is little better. If it were war, it would be 
all right, but this is on the eve of peace — at least, 
so far as I know, for we have n’t seen a paper 
for two days.” 

Peace was near, for on July 30 the French 
Ambassador had asked in behalf of the Spanish 
Government if the United States was willing to 
consider proposals for ending the war, and Presi- 
dent McKinley had answered that peace would be 
considered after Spain had withdrawn all her 
troops and her sovereignty from the western 


18 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


hemisphere, and had evacuated Manila. But ap- 
parently Spain was not quite ready yet, and my 
husband’s camp chronicle had still some time to 
run. 

“‘ Near Bristow Station, August 8. This is another 
pretty place, and the thousands of tents streaking 
away across the rolling country below the hill 
on which we are camped, with myriads of little 
blue dots of soldiers working about like ants, 
made it look quite military....The bridge we 
built across the Bull Run was a great success 
and the view of the troops crossing, the mounted 
officers all fording the rapid river down in its 
deep gorge in the early morning, was one of those 
picturesque sights that make a march have its 
delights. To-morrow the division moves on to 
the foot of the Bull Run mountains to Thoro- 
fare, near the Gap. 

“‘Thorofare, Va., August 10. Oh, we made a 
famous march yesterday, I can tell you, although 
it may not go down in history. Under the adverse 
circumstances the command made an excellent 
showing. Oh, what wind and rain! It had poured 
the night before last like a torrent, and another 
of our bridges was swept away, and all things 


LOOKING BACK 19 


were against going on. But we went ahead and 
the ten thousand men waded the swift Broad 
Run in water waist-deep, and the hundred and 
fifty wagons forded it without an accident. We 
passed twelve miles of ‘black Jack’ mud and on 
through Gainsboro and through Haymarket to 
Thorofare, while the rain pelted down in sheets, 
and into camp the soldiers marched, everybody 
cheering and the bands playing. The men pitched 
their little dog-tents on the ground and were sop- 
ping wet all night. The sun has n’t come out yet 
to dry anything, but I am happy to say that the 
military part of the service brought in the troops 
in better condition than when they started. 

“ August 11. This may be magnificent, ‘mazs ce 
nest pas la guerre.’ Late last night, we received 
orders to march, mind you, to Camp Meade near 
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, one hundred and 
twenty or more miles away, and this while trying 
to keep out of the rain at what we had been told 
would be our permanent camp. We can’t possibly 
move off again for a day or two. The men have 
n’t shoes, many of them, for their footgear went 
to pieces in the mud, and their clothes aren’t 
dry yet. What we are going to have done to us, 


20 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


I can’t for the life of me make out. This march 
up into the Pennsylvania mountains has little to 
recommend it. It will be through a pretty coun- 
try, so let us hope it will be enjoyable after all, 
but there is much responsibility and anxiety with 
such a multitude of men. However, we are mak- 
ing arrangements and will be better prepared than 
when the division pulled out of Camp Alger.” 

On the 12th of August the peace protocol was 
signed, but there was still much to be done before 
the troops were mustered out. August 13 came the 
following: 

“‘The announcement of peace has made me 
want to leave it all, yet it may be weeks or 
months before I can do so dutifully. When I went 
to Washington I had a talk with the Secretary of 
War and General Corbin. They were very nice 
and the Secretary said pleasant things. Now we 
begin to see light, and hope to get off one regi- 
ment to-morrow. But I must remain for a time 
with General Davis, a splendid man, to whom 
I have become greatly attached, and whom I wish 
to do all I can for in my small way.” 

Demobilizing was soon well started. Before long 
my husband wrote again: 


LOOKING BACK 21 


“The trains are puffing and switching up and 
down and the sections will be running past in a 
few minutes, flatcars with ambulances and wag- 
ons, stock cars with mules and horses, day coaches 
with men hanging out of the windows waving 
handkerchiefs and hats, and at the end the Pull- 
man for the officers. It takes three long trains to 
carry a regiment. I am sending Soldier Boy home 
to Washington, as it is the beginning of the end. 

“What an odd, broken summer! It is over now, 
and for the best, no doubt. I have been in pleas- 
ant places, and certainly of all the troops that 
remained in this country, this division, with its 
plucky march through Virginia, has certainly 
been fine. If I had gotten to ‘Cuby’ or Porto 
Rico, I might have been dead. I am looking on 
the bright side of things to-day, and glad to be 
alive. Soon I will put my sword over the mantel- 
piece in the little library and start the fire, sitting 
- next to you, and be at peace.” 

The aftermath of the war brought the home- 
’ coming of the heroes. Roosevelt, with his Rough 
Riders, was perhaps the most advertised, and 
Hobson a close second. He dined with us the 
night of his arrival in Washington, even before 


22 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


reporting at the Department, and before begin- 
ning his kissing career. He reached town on Sun- 
day, and I only learned that same morning that 
he would be our guest at dinner. Wishing to 
make the party as much of a success as possible, 
I sent word to my husband at camp to bring in 
several officers. The shops were closed, of course, 
but with some difficulty I was able to get hold 
of a caterer who made us some wonderful battle- 
ships of ice cream. After ringing violently at the 
door of a flower shop, I saw a head pop out of 
an upper window, and explained my errand. The 
man promised to send us some flowers, but added 
that he could not come down to show them to 
me, as he was taking a bath! 

Hobson was very handsome in those days, and 
had a marvelous deep voice, so though he told us 
of his tremendously brave exploit in a very mod- 
est manner, we were all quite thrilled. It will be 
remembered that he volunteered, with four others, 
to take the Merrimac under fire of the forts, into 
the harbor of Santiago, and sink her in the chan- 
nel to block the passage so that Cervera’s fleet 
could not come out. His project was very similar 
to the sinking of the Vindictive at Zeebrugge by 


LOOKING BACK 23 


the gallant Carpenter, whose brave deed stirred 
London to wild enthusiasm. 

But war left problems behind it, not the least 
of which was the holding of the Philippines, and 
much of the successful handling of them has been 
due to Taft, first as Civil Commissioner and later 
as Governor of the Islands. The remainder of the 
administration seemed peaceful and uneventful 
by comparison with the earlier part, and nearly 
every one was glad when McKinley was elected 
to his second term. 

We were off on our houseboat fishing, not long 
after this, when suddenly we noticed that the 
other boats were flying their flags at half-mast. 
In answer to our hail of inquiry they called to 
us across the still water, ‘‘The President has 
been assassinated !”’ 

Every one knows the story of the fatal shot and 
of McKinley’s calm and gentleness and courage at 
that moment; how he made no outcry but turned 
very white and sank back, fumbling at his breast in 
great agony. And no one will ever forget his words, 
his one thought at that moment — “ Cortelyou— 
Cortelyou. My wife—be careful about her. She’s 


? 


sleeping — break the news gently to her....’ 


CHAPTER II 
«A ‘Red Torch flared above His Head” 


PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT had been Assistant Secre- 
tary of the Navy for McKinley, but he had re- 
signed when the war broke out and organized a 
volunteer regiment of cavalry known as the 
Rough Riders. After the war he was made Gov- 
ernor of New York, and then became Vice- 
President — an office that he took most unwill- 
ingly and that many people thought would end 
his political career by switching him out of the 
beaten track of politics. It was an open secret 
at the time that he had not been tractable as 
Governor. A powerful political chieftain of New 
York, commenting upon Roosevelt’s disinclina- 
tion to surrender the governorship for the 
politically innocuous post of Vice-President, 
remarked that Teddy had been kicked upstairs. 
But an unforeseen fate, in September of 1901, put 
him at the head of the Nation. His administra- 
tions were marked by a diversity of events, observ- 
ances, and innovations, each and all character- 


A RED TORCH 25 


istic of the man himself. They were for him seven 
years of incessant, almost demoniac activity — 
seven years without a day of illness or an engage- 
ment postponed. It was said that he acted the 
way Napoleon’s soldiers fought —‘‘as if to- 
morrow were the resurrection.” 

Unresting energy marked the order of every 
day, both in work and recreation. Wrestling 
bouts and boxing contests took place two or 
three times a week. Expert Japanese instructors 
taught the President jiu-jitsu, and there were 
frequent broadsword encounters with his inti- 
mate friends and with sons of the house. In one 
day he rode a hundred and six miles in order 
to give the army men an example, after mak- 
ing a rule requiring them to ride thirty miles a 
day for three days, to show they were in proper 
condition. Wallace Irwin wrote of him in a con- 
temporary weekly: 

“You were often hard to follow in your chase for Bull and 
Bear; Bet ‘ 
And your walks with Army Captains — my, you hiked 
it so! 
Say, we almost choked to see you beard the Congress in 
its lair 
And emerge without a bump, and oh, you liked it so! 


26 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


You were never dull and clammy — you were either pleased 
or vexed, 
And we woke up mornings asking, ‘What will he be doing 
next? 
Will he give the railroads Hades? 
Or express his views on Ladies, 

Or impale some Rabbit Faker on a pointed Moral Text?’”’ 

He believed in teamwork and gave generous 
praise to those who worked under him. His suc- 
cessor said he had never served any chief so 
willing to accord more than their deserts to the 
men who stood shoulder to shoulder with him. 

Prominent in his administration were Root, 
Knox, Taft, and Cortelyou. Perhaps the most dis- 
tinguished member of the Cabinet was John Hay, 
Secretary of State. My husband writes of him: 
“John Hay belonged to the group of cultivated 
men of the world who at one period made Wash- 
ington a most delightful capital. An incomparable 
diner-out and table companion, his give-and-take 
of talk was brilliant and profound. Soldier, author, 
statesman— he was the most charming American 
type, deeply cultured, widely traveled, with that 
great gift of humor characteristic of our race, and 
yet with a wise and wide and deep apprecia- 
tion that made him an ideal diplomat and great 


A RED TORCH 27 


statesman; he was a philosopher whether he spoke 
in light vein or seriously. Fond of having young 
men about him, he would talk to them and un- 
fold his views with as much care and interest as 
if he were in most important company. They re- 
sponded by a devotion to him, and many of them 
have owed much to his helping hand. While he 
was Ambassador to England the English liked to 
think him one of themselves, for he fitted in so 
perfectly with their cultivated groups of intel- 
lectual life. Indeed, although American to the 
core, perhaps his personality, as well as his lit- 
erary work, was appreciated more abroad than 
at home. I remember that on one occasion I 
accompanied him to a Sunday service at West- 
minster Abbey when Canon Farrar in his sermon 
quoted from ‘Little Breeches,’ not even knowing 
that the author was in town and much less that 
he was sitting at that moment in the stalls.” 

One coterie of Roosevelt’s best friends and po- 
litical followers was called the ‘‘Tennis Cabinet,” 
a member of which I knew well, Mr. Alford 
Cooley whose career was unhappily cut short by 
illness. An extract from Roosevelt’s letter, writ- 
ten on hearing of his ill-health, shows both the 


28 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


chief magistrate’s own personality and his fine 
recognition of the official who served under him: 

“You know the Russian proverb, ‘Once in ten 
years you can help a man.’ Now, my dear Mrs. 
Cooley, it may still be that the power for me to be 
of any assistance to Alford will never come, but I 
shall esteem it a real favor if you will let me know 
at any time when you think I can do anything 
whatever for you or Alford, or for your small son 
when he grows up.” 

- Sometimes I met the President at Mrs. Cooley’s 
house for afternoon tea at the end of a game of 
tennis, and he would talk in the most diverting 
and unrestrained manner. His choice of words 
and flow of language were unparalleled. Once he 
told us about an encounter with two newspaper 
reporters whom he disliked. 

“‘T caught the skunks,” he said, “‘and skinned 
them.” 

I had a good chance that winter to see some of 
the inside workings of politics and the wire-pull- 
ing. In spite of Roosevelt’s popularity, there were 
innumerable scrimmages and verbal encounters— 
strife seemed to be in the very air. His name was 
on every tongue. ‘‘He’s got the foot and mouth 


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*ONILAAYS “ANOS TIVHS SLINASHUd ASAHL WOHM OL TIV OL 


}[Aasoowy Itoporyp 


A RED TORCH 29 


disease!’’ ‘‘He’s crazy!” Or, as the Yale police- 
man put it, ‘‘He’s a lovely man, but he’s dis- 
tressing.’’ Some one was always slinging some- 
thing at him, and he generally returned as good 
as he received. 

An army officer hit him off in a couple of stan- 
zas which were much quoted at the time he made 
his famous trip to Europe: 

“ Before him blared a big brass band, 
He shot off guns with either hand; 
A red torch flared above his head, 


And as he cheered, again he said, 
Incognito! 


“He wore a sash, red, white, and blue, 
At times he beat a bass drum too; 
And then he stood upon his head, 
And with a grin again he said, 
Incognito!” 


He had a gift for the unforeseen, and set poli- 
ticians by the ears. A conundrum was current — 
“Why is Roosevelt like a grasshopper?’’ — to 
which one answered, ‘‘Because you never know 
which way he’ll hop, but when he does, he’ll hop 
like hell!’’ Sobriquets, phrases, and yarns were 
continually applied to him — and by him. The 


30 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Strenuous Life, the Big Stick, the Ananias Club, 
the fable of San Juan Hill, the Round Robin, 
the Great American Trust Buster, Teddy and the 
Lions, Roosevelt and the Mother, Roosevelt and 
the Pope, and last but not least, Roosevelt and 
Dear Maria! He was alive, amusing, fearless, and 
outspoken. Whenever he appeared, it was Hurrah, 
boys! and something doing. But although he was 
a politician and had his enemies, the people as a 
whole trusted and admired him. 

The children at the White House were delight- 
fully in evidence. To the older Washingtonians 
it recalled the days of Garfield, when Earl Garfield 
rode down the stairs of the White House on his 
high-wheeled mount, or had bicycle races round 
the East Room. I remember once at an Army and 
Navy reception noticing that Mr. Roosevelt, who 
was receiving, kept his foot moving restlessly and 
continually. Later I discovered the reason —two 
small boys, hidden under a sofa behind him, were 
mischievously pulling at their father’s trouser 
leg! 

The Roosevelt pets were legion and not infre- 
quently escaped the confines of the juvenile me- 
nagerie — guinea pigs, kittens, horned frogs, badg- 


A RED TORCH 31 


ers, rabbits, and macaws, to say nothing of the 
eagles, owls, and alligators sent by admirers from 
all over the country that had to be transferred 
to the Washington Zoo. Senators were assailed 
on staircases by sportive dogs. Congressmen wait- 
ing in an anteroom would be gleefully hailed by 
asmall boy, his pockets filled with tame snakes. 
Reporters hanging about the grounds gained more 
picturesque ‘‘copy”’ than a dozen other adminis- 
trations had afforded. 

Another time, Archie, who was ill in bed at the 
White House, talked so much about his pony 
that Quentin decided the animal ought to make 
his brother a visit. So, with the aid of a little 
colored boy, he put the pony in the elevator and 
led him into Archie’s room, to not only the chil- 
dren’s delight, but to the President’s as well. 

When Eli Smith arrived in an Arctic sledge, 
drawn by six dogs all the way from Alaska to win 
a wager of ten thousand dollars, he drove round to 
the south side of the White House, and out came 
the children to see the driver put his team through 
their paces and listen to the story of his year’s 
journey. One never knew in those days what one 
might encounter in the way of quaint occurrence. 


32 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Freaks and adventurers knew that the children, 
at any rate, could be trusted to give them a 
welcome, and the chances were that their elders, 
too, would bend a kindly eye upon the new-com- 
ers. Down Pennsylvania Avenue one morning 
came an old-time prairie schooner of the type of 
1849; in it were a spry, weather-beaten old man 
with snowy hair and beard, his wife, and a collie 
dog of high spirits and engaging manners. The 
three of them had been two years journeying from 
Tacoma to pay their respects to the President. 
It was a cold November day when they arrived, 
but out came Roosevelt bareheaded to greet them, 
and out came the youngsters, eager to see the 
collie perform his tricks. 

Mrs. Cooley wrote, when visiting at the Exec- 
utive Mansion: ‘‘Charles the Magnificent met us 
at the station, and we drove up with the presi- 
dential plumes flying. Mrs. Roosevelt greeted us 
most cordially. Here we are in a beautiful room 
about the size of our house all put together, done 
in blue brocade with a velvet rug of blue, a huge 
four-poster bed and a nice little cot beside it in 
which at this moment my boy is sleeping sweetly. 
There is a dear little room adjoining which faces 


THE PRESIDENT’S BIRTHDAY PARTY: A FANTASY 
Drawn by John T. McCutcheon and presented to Mrs. Alford W. Cooley 


tA 


ae 


“A RED TORCH 33 


the monument and all the green of the White 
Lot with the fountains playing on the lawn. I 
have just seen over the mantelpiece this bronze 
which reads, ‘In this room Abraham Lincoln signed 
the Emancipation Proclamation of January I, 
1863, whereby five million were given their free- 
dom, and slavery forever prohibited in these 
United States.’ And now my maid Carrie, a col- 
ored lady, walks about here.”’ 

Mrs. Roosevelt kept open house in a simple, in- 
formal manner. As the children grew up, there 
were “‘young”’ parties for them, and a dance every 
Friday night for Ethel. Alice, who married my 
husband’s cousin, Nicholas Longworth, was a chip 
of the old block. Her wedding took place in the 
big North Room. On either side of the altar the 
members of the immediate family were grouped 
— two of Alice’s aunts, her stepmother and the 
children, while the groom’s family was repre- 
sented by his mother, his sister, the Countess de 
Chambrun, and L.’s mother. L. himself was an 
usher. A prominent society leader, with a penchant 
for associating herself with the family at every 
wedding which she attended, tried to add herself 
to this little group, but for once she found it im- 


34 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


possible. The aide firmly refused to let her in 
without a card, much to the amusement of every 
one, and the lady retired, baffled, just as the bride, 
unattended, came up the aisle on her father’s arm. 

Years ago the Presidents had only two aides, but 
in Roosevelt’s time there were a dozen, both 
Army and Navy. At a reception one of them 
would ask the name of a guest in line and pass it 
on to another, who in turn repeated it to the Presi- 
dent. Often the names became changed quite a 
bit before they were announced — I remember 
that on one occasion, Mr. Spreckles, the Hawaiian 
sugar man, was introduced as “Mr. Freckles.” 

The ladies of the Cabinet received with the 
President and his wife, and the line, with the fat 
and the thin, the short and the tall, was often 
more amusing than decorative. During some of 
these very crowded entertainments people had 
their clothes almost torn off their backs in the 
terrible crushes. One woman had the shoulder 
straps of her evening gown broken, but kept her 
place in the procession, remarking when she was 
introduced, ‘‘ Mr. President, I cannot shake hands 
— I have to hold on my dress!” ’ 

When the crush was at its worst — at the be- 


A RED TORCH 35 


ginning of Roosevelt’s administration — the turn- 
ing of the White House over entirely to offices and 
the building of a new presidential residence at the 
beautiful old Dent place, was considered. But the 
plan was dropped, and wings to house the offices 
were added on either side of the Executive Man- 
sion. 

At a typical dinner of the period, the room 
would be filled with diplomats, Army and Navy 
officers, and politicians — men of the great world 
mixed with those who had more brains than social 
experience. There would be much bowing and 
clicking of heels and introducing, and then per- 
haps a general would lead the way with an 
ambassadress to the dining-room. 

There was a Mrs, Malaprop of the administra- 
tion who, on such an occasion, observing Sir 
Joshua Reynolds’s ‘‘ Lady Cockburn and her Chil- 
dren,” remarked; “I suppose that is the Ma- 
donna” — blandly ignoring the three infants and 
the Georgian costume; and then, amid a series of 
suppressed chuckles, inquired if the portrait of 
the Duke of Wellington was not her host’s father? 
Her lapses of language were famous. People never 
tired of telling how she went around getting sig- 


36 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


natures for a ‘‘red robin’? when she meant a 
round one; and how after her return from Cali- 
fornia, she described a wonderful trip through 
the ‘‘valley of Gethsemane” when she meant 
Yosemite. Once she burst in upon an afternoon 
tea, announcing with loud and cheerful vigor: 
“‘T’ve been out in the country for a walk, and do 
you know, I jumped from rock to rock just like a 
shamrock!”’ 

Some of the men were amusing in their way, 
too. There was one I remember in particular, a 
rural Congressman who rebelled at taking a desig- 
nated lady out to dinner, saying stoutly: “I’ve 
never taken in anybody but my wife yet, and I 
guess I won’t change now!” 

Very different from all this was the Washington 
of the fifties, described by Henry Adams: “‘Soci- 
ety went on excellently well without horses, or 
carriages, or jewels, or toilettes, or pavements, or 
shops, or grandezza of any sort; and the market 
was excellent as well as cheap. One could not stay 
there a month without loving the shabby town. 
Even the Washington girl, who was neither rich, 
nor well-dressed, nor well-educated, nor clever, 
had a singular charm, and used it... . The happy 


A RED TORCH 37 


village was innocent of a club. The one-horse tram 
on F Street to the Capitol was ample for traffic. 
Every pleasant morning at the Pennsylvania Sta- 
_ tion, society met to bid good-bye to its friends 
- going off on a single express....In four and 
twenty hours he could know everybody; in two 
days everybody knew him.” 

But what a change since then — racial, so- 
cial, convivial — crowded streets, clubs, hotels — 
and constant extravagant entertaining at the 
houses of millionaires and at the different em- 
bassies! 

Although the British have been represented by 
several ambassadors during the past twenty years, 
I doubt if any has been more popular than Lord 
Pauncefote, who was in Washington when I first 
came. Ambassador Bryce, of course, stands out 
prominently, and so does Lord Reading. Among 
other diplomats who have remained for a num- 
ber of years and are much liked are the French, 
H. E. Monsieur Jusserand; the Spanish, H. E. 
Monsieur Riano; the Danish, Monsieur Brun; and 
the Portuguese, Viscount d’Alte. The Austrian 
Ambassador, Baron von Hengelmiiller, was also 
here a long time, and Count von Bernstorff, whom 


38 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


people liked as cordially before the war as they 
despised him after it. 

The embassy functions were always sure, of 
course, to be different from any others. There 
was, for instance, a stiff dinner at the British Em- 
bassy, where we entered the big drawing-room to 
find people standing about in a circle, all dead- 
silent, and not one familiar face. After shaking 
hands with the hostess we joined this impene- 
trable group and watched the next arrivals go 
through the ordeal which we had just survived. 
At last a friendly face appeared and the spell — 
for us, at least — was broken. I went in with the 
Minister of Justice from Canada, gray-haired, 
quite deaf, and with a legal mind if ever there was 
one. I met a South African millionaire and some 
Congressmen, but the guests were principally 
South Americans with their plump and pretty 
wives. 

Beside me sat the Swedish Minister, who really 
was very interesting. Perhaps the wealthiest man 
of his day in Sweden — he owned factories over 
there which supplied America with elevator ropes 
and piano strings— he was an extraordinary 
character. At twenty-five he had been a gay lieu- 


A RED TORCH 39 


tenant in the army, but he and his wife became 
interested in General Booth, so they joined the 
Salvation Army and wore its uniform for eleven 
years, working among the poor and giving them 
the interest of their money. His Excellency almost 
converted me to the cause, for his enthusiasm 
still glowed. Apparently his interest in social and 
industrial problems had never flagged. He told 
me that when the people in his factories became 
old, they were transferred to lighter work. But 
even so there must have been difficulties, for he 
said that our labor troubles (or what we called 
labor troubles then) did not compare with those 
of Sweden, and that the discontent generally 
began in communities where there was no church, 
the people becoming irreligious and socialistic. We 
dined very pleasantly with him later at the Swe- 
dish Legation, where his maids, in their native cos- 
tume of gay striped skirts and black bodices, were 
a picturesque feature. 

Another fascinatingly foreign household helped 
to make Washington cosmopolitan — that of the 
de Buisserets, the Belgian Minister and his wife. 
He hopped about like a charming little bird, with 
his white spats and pipe. The German nurse 


40 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


brought the new baby down for us to see — it was 
in swaddling clothes such as I had never seen be- 
fore, all tied up with bows of pink ribbon. Hardly 
had she taken the tot away again when the French 
butler informed Madame — now at luncheon — 
that she was needed, as the infant was hungry. One 
of their servants was a superbly costumed Moor 
who waited on table; they had brought him from 
Tangiers, an earlier post, and both spoke to him in 
Arabic. 

Dining at the Japanese Embassy was not so un- 
usual an experience as might have been expected, 
for the establishment was quite Europeanized. The 
Ambassadress had been educated at Bryn Mawr 
and spoke excellent English; clad in a formal eve- 
ning dress and wearing a diamond tiara in her hair, 
she received us most charmingly. The secretary’s 
wife also spoke our language. Before that I had 
seen very few Japanese women who spoke any 
English at all. The Italian Ambassador was there, 
and the Dutch Minister, both magnificent in their 
uniforms, for they were dressed to go on to a re- 
ception at the White House. 

One night we went to a dinner party to meet 
T. I. H. Prince and Princess Fushimi. I was 


A RED TORCH 41 


taken in by a most delightful Japanese gentleman 
who spoke nothing but Japanese and Chinese, 
but he had so laughing a face and looked so jolly 
that you could n’t help liking him. His Imperial 
_ Highness made a very striking appearance — tall 
and with the high-caste features of his long de- 
scent. He had had an interesting life, traveled 
widely and seen much — in short, a kind of Jap- 
anese Abruzzi; he spoke French, so I was able to 
talk with him. The Princess was very sweet, with 
the same high-bred look of distinction. She was 
accompanied by her lady-in-waiting, rather plain 
but very nice, and a companion — a diminutive, 
serious-looking person with glasses and an Ameri- 
can education behind them. The men of the suite 
consisted of an aide and two naval atiachés who 
were quick and clever as they could be. L.’s at- 
tempt to talk Japanese made them laugh, which 
was what he wanted, knowing that the Japanese 
like to laugh and joke even more than most of us. 

Very different was a reception given a Chinese 
Prince by the Chinese Ambassador. There were 
at least eight men in the line, all wearing their 
beautiful native costumes, and at first one could 
not decide which might be the Prince; but it turned 


42 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


out that the first man was the interpreter, the 
next the Ambassador, and the third — taller than 
the others and stouter— His Royal Highness. 
Only one or two of the group spoke English, but 
they shook hands in American fashion, and if 
they could n’t speak, they could at least bow and 
smile. But they were not so jolly as the Japanese. 

A little to one side stood the ladies of the party 
—TI had never seen so many Chinese women to- 
gether at a foreign reception. They wore trou- 
sers and straight embroidered jackets in rich and 
brilliant colors, and the slippers on their tiny 
feet were of satin. The little ladies did not look 
frightened in the least, but behaved very much 
like bright-eyed, self-possessed dolls, in their paint 
and their many-colored garments. I thought them 
very alien and impenetrable then, but later, when, 
during my stay in the Far East, I had a chance to 
know the Orientals better, I came to the conclu- 
sion that they were not so different from the rest 
of us after all. 

Of still quite another sort was an American In- 
dian party, a most original and amusing affair, 
given one evening at a country place outside of 
Washington. Mrs. Stevenson, whom we had 


A RED TORCH 43 


known out in Zufii land, had brought me a corn- 
maiden’s dress of white with black and red, and I 
‘wore moccasins, beads and bracelets, and had 
my hair flying and decorated with feathers. Mrs. 
Clarence Edwards also had a correct costume 
which had been given her by Frank Millet, the 
artist. L., clad in a mask and a blanket, with a 
bottle of whiskey and a sign, ‘‘Lo, the poor 
Indian,” was one of the best. 

The band was playing plaintive Indian music 
when we reached the place. By the light of the 
setting sun it was great fun to watch the other 
guests arriving on horseback, — cow-boys and 
cow-girls and Indians giving war-whoops. To lend 
a touch of realism there were some “‘honest and 
true” Indians among them, too—I wondered 
what they thought of it all. As the afterglow 
faded, the trees became starry with colored lights 
and the tents were illuminated. Pistol shots rang 
out into the night, and we all danced madly 
about a great bonfire. 

On another occasion some theatricals were given 
in an artist’s house — a queer, low-ceilinged struc- 
ture of a style called Spanish, with only a few dim 
lights hung here and there. Incense curled about 


44 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


us and blurred the weird sketches of wild-eyed 
people who peered down from the walls as we 
groped our way about, running into mirrors and 
each other. 

I am sure the house had never been dusted, 
and it smelled as if it had never been aired — even 
the tapestries on the walls were musty and the 
air reeked with perfume. In the center of a room 
in which we eventually found ourselves, several 
more or less undraped ladies with bare feet were 
posing and whirling rhythmically. It was all quite 
unusual, but highly diverting. At that time bare- 
foot dancing, now so common, was in its early 
stages, and this party caused considerable talk. 

Calling occupied almost every afternoon. The 
Cabinet ladies received one day, and the Sena- 
tors’ wives another. Ambassadresses still another. 
On New Year’s Day I stayed at home in South- 
ern fashion and served some delicious milk punch. 
Possibly the news of its virtues spread, for I think 
every man in Washington dropped in that after- 
noon. 

When I had a quiet moment, which was not 
often, I loved sitting in our winter garden, sur- 
rounded by palms and red azaleas. A little bronze 


A RED TORCH 45 


faun peeped out from among the flowers while 
clear water trickled into a plate of yellow ala- 
baster where lay violet orchids, and a pair of in- 
quisitive parroquets fluttered about in the sun- 
shine. ; 

With spring the magnolias blossomed every- 
where and the warm air was full of the scent 
of budding flowers. In our walled garden at the 
rear of the house the crocuses came and went, the 
violets and pansies, the pink, blue-centered 
tulips, and the delicate gray Spanish iris. The 
Japanese peach trees seemed to bloom in a night 
and fade in a day. Before we knew it, the green 
leaves of the pin oak were giving shade so that 
we could sit under it and enjoy the scented pe- 
onies and snowballs, and watch the progress of the 
budding roses. In springtime Washington is like 
fairyland. 


CHAPTER III 
Rough Rider and Buccaneer 


IT was not easy to find time for the garden during 
the rush of social life, and the only means of get- 
ting any real rest was to run away from Washing- 
ton and everything connected with it. Roxana — 
half houseboat, half steam yacht — usually aided 
and abetted our escape. She had taken us north- 
ward into the Gulf of St. Lawrence and. south- 
ward through inland waterways to Florida and 
even round into the Gulf of Mexico. But her shal- 
low draught made it necessary for us to hug the 
shore, and to pick our weather at that. 

The spring after Roosevelt’s accession, while 
memories of the Spanish War were still fresh, we 
decided to make a cruise with some friends 
through the West Indies, stopping to see Amer- 
ica’s new possessions, permanent and temporary. 
Since most of the trip would be made in the 
open ocean, Roxana was out of the question, so 
L. chartered instead a yacht named Virginia. 

Cold and cloudy was the morning that we set 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 47 


off down the muddy Potomac, to the friendly 
tootings of little tugboats that saluted our pass- 
ing craft. Through Chesapeake Bay Virginia 
rolled and tossed, and out into the stormy At- 
lantic. That night, and the next, and the next, 
it was all we could do to stay in our bunks. 
After that, the Bermudas seemed like heaven, in- 
deed. The sun came out, the clouds drifted away, 
and the yacht steamed smoothly along over a 
glorious, clear sea, for about us lay small islands 
covered to the water’s edge with dark green 
cedars. 

A message from a naval vessel stationed there 
said we might come in if we were n’t ‘‘too fond 
of the Boers,’’ so the Virginia proceeded into 
the harbor and dropped anchor. Presently the 
consul and a couple of officers from the British 
destroyer Quail came aboard and matters were 
arranged satisfactorily. After lunching at a bit 
of fairyland, supposed to be a French restau- 
rant named Belterre, surrounded by giant ferns 
and hanging orchids and enlivened by monkeys 
and emerald and scarlet cockatoos, we drove over 
the pretty island. The scene at the barracks was 
very picturesque; a military band was playing, 


48 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


and the inhabitants promenaded up and down 
beneath the tropic trees, while standing about 
were the big black men of the West Indian Regi- 
ment, most pompous in their brilliant red and 
gold zouave jackets and turbans. In the intervals 
of the music there came from across the straits 
the sound of Boer prisoners singing some old 
folk-song. 

On the different islands there were said to be 
five thousand war captives, many small boys 
and old men among them. Some were n’t even 
Boers at all — one was a man from East Boston. 
Heaven only knows how he happened to be taken 
in a South African war! 

From all accounts they were treated well, and 
given just the same rations as the British sol- 
diers. They lived in tents and did their own 
cooking and washing, and in that gentle climate 
could not suffer. Some did a little wood-carving, 
making canes and ornaments for sale, but the 
things they sold were hardly artistic. 

The English were extremely strict about allow- 
ing outsiders to speak to or even see them, for- 
bidding our guest, John Coolidge, to go anywhere 
near, although he had been in Pretoria and had 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 49 


letters from Lord Milner thanking him for his 
services. One day, however, we did go over to an — 
island to have tea with some officers, and got a 
glimpse, though at a distance, of the Boers. They 
looked rather shabby, and were anything but 
clean in their habits. The close supervision they 
were under had resulted in a minimum of escapes, 
only one man of the entire lot having managed 
to get away. 

The remainder of our time in Bermuda was 
spent in drives and picnics, a luncheon at Admir- 
alty House, a tea on board the Quail, and a won- 
derful day at St. George. In the Devil’s Hole, an 
enchanting pool stocked with strange exotic crea- 
tures of the deep, magnificent electric-blue angel- 
fish were swimming about with fan-shaped or 
needle-nosed ones, some speckled, or striped like 
convicts of the under-sea, others silvery and op- 
alescent. Clinging to the rocks were rainbow-col- 
ored sea anemones and great blue long-fingered 
starfish. The pool was as colorful with its crystal- 
clear water as a tropic garden. Our last night 
ashore was spent dining with friends at a hotel 
and dancing afterwards with dashing officers in 
gay red coats. 


50 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


It was high time we left Bermuda, for our sailors 
got into a fight with some men from the Quail 
and licked them. One Britisher was so badly hurt 
that it was feared our crew might be taken into 
custody because of the trouble, but the captain 
of the Quail very kindly fixed matters up with 
the magistrate, and the night Virginia sailed the 
British sea dogs rowed over and sang sailor chant- 
eys to us, just to show there was no ill-feeling. 
It was “‘jolly nice” of them, and we gave them 
some grog and cheered, and applauded their sing- 
ing, while they rowed off, still caroling, the old 
sea song dying away across the water: 

“So early in the morning, the sailor likes his bottle O—— 

A bottle of rum and a bottle of gin and a bottle of old 

Jamaica, Ho! 
So early in the morning.” 


Perhaps it would be best to say nothing about 
the next day or two. The yacht encountered such” 
a stiff gale that even the captain was sick, not to 
mention ourselves, and.the Virginia was obliged 
to slow down, so we were late in reaching our 
next destination — Porto Rico. 

Picturesque San Juan Harbor was guarded by 
an old morro — the very one our men had bom- 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 51 


barded not long before, and we covered the same 
course taken by our fleet when it ran in at day- 
break to silence the forts. There was little trace 
of fighting to be seen, though, in that tiny, com- 
pact city, with its scant half-mile of old gray 
forts, of ancient gates hidden beneath streamers 
of giant-leaved vines, of stucco houses, yellow, 
pink, or green —all lying there against their 
background of hills that merged into fainter, 
bluer mountains, and then into still farther and 
fainter heights beyond. 

Here in this town, with its quaint shops and 
peaceful plaza, where dusky women lean over 
balconies, Ponce de Leon once sought his fabled 
fountain of youth. Sir Francis Drake fought the 
Spanish colonists, long years ago, and sacked the 
city so thoroughly that ‘‘Francisco el Dragon” 
is a tradition to this day. 

Escorted by an army officer, L. and I drove in 
a dougherty drawn by four mules to see the bar- 
racks where our soldiers were stationed, and the 
morro. The latter was old and moss-grown, full of 
queer labyrinthine corridors and gloomy rooms, 
hewn from the living rock, with here and there 
a scar to show where our marines had landed a 


52 PRESIDENTS AND PIES’ 


shell. A century before it had been deemed im- 
pregnable, but Americans had silenced its bat- 
teries in a single forenoon. The Spanish cannon 
were still there, though, and looked threatening 
and modern enough to command respect. After 
dinner at the barracks, where they gave us our 
first taste of royal palm salad — very delicious 
and much like celery — we took electric cars to 
el parque, several miles away. Here a native band 
was playing in an open pavilion; one of the musi- 
cians produced a scratching accompaniment on a 
curious little instrument he called a witcherol. 

Sunday I went to what was designated the 
Protestant church, and found it rather pa- 
thetic — just a small, bare room, with a few 
white people, and a sermon made indistinguish- 
able by the noises in the street. Nearly every 
one on the island was Catholic and at that time 
very hostile to the Protestants, so the latter could 
hardly hire even a hole in which to have their 
services. 

The American Governor of the island and his 
wife lived in the same handsome but dilapidated 
palace which the Spanish Governors had occupied. 
It was built quite in the Castilian style, with a 


NYGuUVS ATHM :VAIAIOTH WOU STIAHS GNV SSOW 


a Sariatexchsiay, 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 53 


great courtyard in the middle; the floors were 
stone or marble, and the ceilings very high, so 
that, although none of the bedrooms had ‘windows, 
there seemed to be plenty of light and air. In the 
old throne room, alas, the throne had been taken 
away, but there remained a few relics — black, 
fantastically carved furniture with moth-eaten 
leather coverings, and some shadowy, age-dark- 
ened paintings of the Velasquez school. 

Motoring across the island, the first few miles 
we had a good level road; the country was quite 
tropical, with occasional small villages of shacks 
built on stilts, with thatched roofs and sides of 
dried banana leaves. But soon the car began to 
climb into the clouds, up and up into the mist and 
rain, over the mountains. The scenery, when the 
clouds lifted, became superb. After sixty miles of 
this, we reached Coamo Springs, and found to 
our surprise a clean and pretty hotel with marble 
tubs and natural sulphur baths. It was a great 
gambling resort in old Spanish times, and although 
the gaming had, of course, been done away with, 
our American soldiers enjoyed going there. 

Next day a drive of twenty miles through hot 
and dusty cane-fields brought us to Ponce, where 


54 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


we stopped only to buy a mascot for the yacht. 
This was a wee goat, so young he had to be fed 
from a bottle, and we named him in honor of the 
place — Billy Ponce. The Virginia met us here 
and we went aboard, sailing at sunset for St. 
Thomas. 

This is one of the Virgin Islands which the 
United States has recently bought from the Danes, 
to whom it still belonged, of course, when we were 
there. The small harbor was surrounded by steep 
circling hills that reached straight to the sea-line, 
so that the town had to climb and cling to find a 
foothold. In the old buccaneering days these hills 
made a fine refuge for the pirates who infested the 
Spanish Main and used this place for their head- 
quarters. Guarding town and harbor were two 
ancient towers, Bluebeard’s and Blackbeard’s; 
these gentlemen of fortune, with their third 
brother, Whitebeard, all flew the black flag. - 

With perfect cruising weather we left St. 
Thomas, and steamed on past other islands set in 
the gleaming sapphire — southern islands rich in 
jungle growth, islands with lofty mountains 
plunging into the water, islands fringed, mile 
upon mile, with feathery cocoanut, and floppy- 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 55 


leaved banana trees — British, Spanish, French, 
and Dutch colonies, as well as South American 
and black republics, each contributing to the end- 
less variety of manners and customs. 

We touched at a number of the islands — 
Guadeloupe, Montserrat, St. Vincent, Grenada, 
and Barbados, but our longest stay was at St. 
Pierre, Martinique, at that time famous because 
of Pierre Loti’s exquisite description. It was car- 
nival time when we landed, and a mad, hilarious 
moment. The sensuous, dark-skinned women, 
decked out in vivid, barbaric costumes, with 
strings of gold beads as big as hickory nuts, 
danced wildly through the streets, singing naughty 
songs in a French patois as they swayed. Morals 
were thrown to the wind — the carnival developed 
into an orgy. A week later, struck as if by the 
hand of God for its sins, the whole town. was 
wiped out by the horrible eruption of Mount 
Pelée, and forty thousand of its gay dancing 
revelers became forever mute and cold in death. 

One morning we woke to find ourselves in 
the shallow, muddy harbor of Trinidad, sur- 
rounded by wooded hills. It is aptly named the 
“Tsland of a Thousand Hills,’’ and the drive 


56. PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


through its maze of winding valleys might indeed 
be called the road to paradise. From sea to sky 
was one stretch of vivid and varied greens. Along 
the roadway trotted picturesque coolies, men and 
women brought from India to work on the great 
plantations. Their costumes surpassed in Oriental 
brilliancy even those worn in the Far East, for 
many of the coolies were decked out in massive 
jewelry that gave them a fine air of prosperity 
—an air not belied by fact, for some of them 
had already purchased their own plantations. 
The greatest wonder of Trinidad, perhaps the 
most beautiful island of the West Indies, is its 
pitch lake. This vast expanse of asphalt, a hun- 
dred acres or more, looks like a black sea, warm to 
the touch and in places slightly bubbling. No one 
knows how long it has been there, but there is a 
tradition that Sir Walter Raleigh once caulked 
his ships from its mysterious depths. The surface 
is mostly dry and covered with a network of tiny 
wrinkles; above it always hovers a shimmer of 
heated air. No matter how much asphalt may be 
hauled away, when the workers leave at night they 
know that by morning the wide, gaping furrow 
will be filled again, smooth and warm and level. 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 57 


There is a slow movement that can be noticed, 
we were told, from day to day. An island of ver- 
dure wanders from one shore to another, or the 
ghostly trunk of a long-dead tree rises from the 
black surface, pointing upwards for a time like 
a warning finger, and then withdrawing again 
into the depths. 

As Trinidad is near Venezuela, it needed only 
a short run to bring us to La Guayra. Here we 
found a German man-of-war on a characteristic 
errand — demanding money, which it claimed 
had been long due. Ashore, calmly indifferent to 
foreign affairs, a religious pilgrimage was being 
conducted, its objective a spring into which a 
bottle of water from the River Jordan had been 
poured —so thousands were visiting it to be 
healed of their ills. Incidentally a revolution was 
in progress, but the town seemed quiet, and a 
few soldiers guarding the road were the only visi- 
ble signs of war. 

At Caracas, quite a large Spanish town on a 
high plateau, the members of our party Iunched 
at the American Legation, and then set off once 
more back to the coast, having a most thrilling 
and never-to-be-forgotten ride on a hand-car, 


58 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


flying through space with incredible rapidity, 
whirling this way and that on the bare edge of a 
precipice, and whizzing a breathless four thousand 
feet down the mountain-side before reaching sea 
level, 

Our next stop was at Curacao, a quaint little 
toy Dutch town, covering a spotless wee island; 
with its canal, its scrubbed doorsteps, tiled roofs, 
and diminutive yellow plaster houses, every inch 
was reminiscent of Holland, even to the spot- 
ted cows and beds of jocund tulips. It was en- 
chanting — a child’s dream of an island — unlike 
any other island in the West Indies — or, for that 
matter, even in the whole world, I am sure. 

A visit from the Dutch Governor, and a call or 
two, and then Virginia was off again — two days 
at sea, and such rolling! At sunrise we landed 
at Haiti, or more accurately, at Port-au-Prince, 
the capital of the little black republic. 

It was Sunday, and the wide, dusty streets were 
lined with ragged soldiers in fragmentary uni- 
forms. Some had guns and some did without. 
Numerous generals strutted about in the most 
absurd regalias, with cocked hats, no two outfits 
of the same cut or color, but all abounding in 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 59 


braid and buttons. The cause of all this ceremony 
—the military had lined up all along the way 
to do him honor as he passed by on his way to 
church — soon appeared in a French victoria, 
drawn by prancing snowy-white horses, the Presi- 
dent of the republic, Simon Sam, black as shoe 
polish, but, oh, so fine in Prince Albert and all 
the shining pride of a silk hat! 

The market in Port-au-Prince was quite the 
best we had seen in that part of the world. Hun- 
dreds of pitch-black women, dressed in clean 
calicoes, were selling or bartering various kinds 
of eatables which they had brought in from the 
country loaded on donkeys. The women of Haiti 
do all the work, leaving the men to sit comfort- 
ably at home in their shacks. 

In the villages back among the hills, it was 
whispered, the natives had reverted to their 
old form of religion, voodooism. They had wild 
dances and secret ceremonies, and sometimes a 
child was sacrificed. Since we were there the 
island has been subject to American influence, 
however, so doubtless conditions are different to- 
day. It is so beautiful, with its fertile valleys and 
great mountains — one of them, Loma Tina, the 


60. PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


highest peak in all the West Indies, rises ten 
thousand feet above the sea. 

Our short stay in Jamaica was chiefly memor- 
able for the drive through Fern Valley. We had 
to get up at five o’clock in the morning to take it, 
but found it worth the effort. The scenery was 
quite as lovely as anything we had seen on the 
whole trip. Roaring River Falls were unique, for 
not only did the water tumble from a great 
height over the rocks, but on these rocks grew 
tall cocoanut trees. The drive was tiresome to- 
ward the last, for the poor horses were so ex- 
hausted that we had to get out and walk up all 
the hills and thought we should never survive 
the journey. 

That night in a rainstorm, with a rough sea 
running, we left Jamaica for Cuba. By morning 
the current had swept us out of our course and 
even the captain could not get his bearings. 
When land finally appeared it proved to be 
Guantanamo, where American marines had cap- 
tured the Spanish blockhouse and signal sta- 
tion. Steaming west, Virginia passed Daiquiri, 
where all our troops had landed and whence 
Wheeler with his regulars and the Rough Riders 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 61 


had marched on to Siboney, soon to engage in the 
battles of Las Guasimas and El Caney and the 
never-to-be-forgotten San Juan Hill. 

Just before dark, reaching the entrance to 
Santiago Harbor, the yacht entered the extraordi- 
nary dusky channel at twilight, so narrow and 
crooked, and overhung with such lofty fortified 
cliffs that we marveled anew at Hobson’s feat 
in trying to block it. His description of the mo- 
ment of the sinking of the Merrimac gives a vivid 
idea of that remarkable adventure: “‘The firing 
suddenly ceased. The vessel lowered her head like 
a faithful animal, proudly aware of its sacrifice, 
bowed below the surface, and plunged forward. 
The stern rose and heeled heavily; it stood for 
a moment, shuddering, then started downward, 
righting as it went. A great rush of water came 
up the gangway, seething and gurgling out on the 
deck. ... It seized us and threw us against the 
bulwarks, then over the rail. A sweeping vortex 
whirled above. We charged about with casks, 
cans, and spars. ... The life-preservers stood us 
in good stead, preventing chests from being 
crushed . . . for spars came, end on, like battering- 
rams.” Hobson was picked up by a launch on 


62 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


which was Admiral Cervera himself, and impris- 
oned in the morro. 

The channel opened suddenly into a glassy, 
landlocked bay, with a town in the distance, its 
twinkling lights scattered over a sloping hillside. 
The peaceful, sheltered harbor was very welcome 
after our stormy cruise. 

The next morning the yacht’s cook was ill; 
moreover, we had just come from Jamaica where 
there was yellow fever, so the doctor promptly 
put us in quarantine. For a time it looked as if 
the harbor might be all that we should see of the 
place. However, one of the firemen put his collar 
bone out of joint, and when the doctor came 
back to attend to him, he found the cook so far 
recovered that concluding his illness was not 
dangerous, he allowed us to go ashore. 

Santiago was a very clean village. Since our 
occupation most of the streets had been covered 
with asphalt and small sidewalks laid. Older than 
time itself seemed the morro, built on several 
different levels, and looking as if it were clinging 
precariously to the cliff. A dougherty hauled us 
up the hill, while gorgeously colored land crabs 
scuttled away before the horses. A sharp turn 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 63 


and we came unexpectedly face to face with the 
military quarters, where our men, still in posses- 
sion, were stationed to guard the prisoners. The 
officers received us very hospitably and treated 
us to refreshments and a band concert. The in- 
terior of the fortress was so immaculate that one 
could hardly imagine what its condition must 
have been when Hobson was imprisoned there, 
though at best his cell was small and musty and 
badly lighted. 

General Whitside very kindly took us to see 
the battle-field of San Juan. The brown, rolling 
country had low hills lying along the horizon line; 
everything was covered with long, dry grass, save 
for a few shrubs and one or two big trees. 

A mile and a half from the town where the 
Spanish army surrendered we came to the historic 
cottonwood tree, with a circle of white-tipped 
palings around it to mark the spot where their 
infantry had piled its arms in token of submis- 
sion. Getting down from the wagon, we went 
to see the trenches from which the Spaniards 
had fired and the blockhouse they had aban- 
doned in their headlong flight. The hill which 
our men had climbed in the face of a devastating 


64 ° PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


fire was very steep. Below it lay a broad plain, 
with a river which had to be forded. The wonder 
was that they had not all been killed crossing the 
wide expanse. A short distance away was Kettle 
Hill, and a farmhouse which the Rough Riders 
had charged. Over on San Juan Ridge we could 
see gaping holes in the earth where our dead had 
been buried after the battle — later to be sent 
back to lie in their own land. On the General’s 
staff was a Captain Whitehead who had seen 
action in the fight, since he belonged to the Tenth 
Cavalry, and he explained it all to us very vividly. 
In the distance we caught sight of an artist work- 
ing at an easel, and the Captain told us it was 
Vereshchagin making studies for a battle picture. 

It must have been a most gallant and spirited 
victory. The charge straight up the steep hill 
under rapid fire from hidden and entrenched 
Spaniards, far outnumbering our attacking force, 
was nothing short of heroic. One of our officers, 
an aide named Dennis Michie, spared the life of 
a wounded Spaniard, only to have him turn and 
kill him from behind —a species of treachery 
which apparently the Germans did not originate. 
Although the military captured scores of prisoners, 


Na@duUVS GTEM ‘AOVLIS WOOCLINO 


“Tf “ a, ‘ 
ga ~~ 
4 i gute Ne 
4 »s 
y ‘ me : 
i . 
a 
i 
cath 
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ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 65 


our forces suffered more killed and wounded than 
the enemy, but that was inevitable where infantry 
did the charging and carried earthworks with the 
aid of dismounted cavalry. 

In spite of the general heroism, there were, of 
course, lapses of courage, and skulkers who had 
to have the fear of God put into them. This was 
true even in the Great War. “It would really be 
a good thing in many respects,’”’ an army officer 
wrote me not long ago, “if the public could know 
how many men had to be sent through dugouts 
to threaten to kill the skulkers if they did n’t get 
out and get busy. One officer was given a Dis- 
tinguished Service Cross for stopping a retreat by 
shooting several of his own men who were running 
— though the citation did not read that way.” 
But the few instances of this sort in both wars 
only serve to bring out the great bravery of the 
majority. 

The sea was calm as the yacht steamed along 
the coast the next day past the wrecks of the 
Spanish fleet. Three were still visible, one man- 
of-war lifting high its deserted decks. We ran 
in close to shore to get a better view of the 
battered hulks, then, not content with that, got 


66 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


into small boats and rowed around the Colon to 
see more closely the marks of our shells. An Ameri- 
can naval officer who took part in the battle gave 
us a much-prized souvenir of the trip — the Co- 
lon’s flag-pole. 

Virginia lay all this while in the open sea where 
Cervera had rushed his ships out in a headlong 
attempt to give swift battle and escape. Behind 
us gleamed the Diamond Shoal which they 
crossed; then they turned sharply west and 
poured shot and shell in dense volleys that 
tore the blue waters into snowy foam. But the 
steady, rapid, and accurate fire of our gunners was" 
more effective. The Maria Teresa turned and fled, 
to sink, a burning wreck, upon the shore at 
Nima Nima. The Oquendo, a mass of flames, has- 
tened to beach herself before it was too late. The 
Vizcaya struggled on, only to be driven landward 
an hour later, like her sister ships, while the com- 
mander of the Colon hauled down her flag and 
ran full speed ashore. The latter was not badly 
hurt, but after surrendering, the Spaniards se- 
cretly opened and broke the sea valves so that 
she sank in shoal water. The tides were washing 
her barnacled sides as we rowed about. 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 67 


It makes one proud to remember that Ameri- 
can officers and men took off the Spanish crews, 
in the midst of exploding batteries and ammuni- 
tion, saving them at a far greater risk to their 
own lives than they had endured all day in battle. 
It was, as Lodge has said, ‘‘a very noble conclu- 
sion to a very perfect victory.” 

Cienfuegos, our next port, had, like Santiago, 
a narrow passage leading into a great bay—a 
coast formation that seemed characteristic of 
Cuba; but the hills in the distance were lower, 
and the land about the bay more level. The har- 
bor was filled with ships lying in port ready to 
load with sugar for the United States whenever a 
procrastinating Congress should say the word. 

A railway crossed the island to Matanzas, sever 
hours’ journey through the center of the island 
with endless flat stretches of sugar-cane. Occa- 
sional feathery palms broke the monotony, but 
no other trees were to be seen. It was a terribly 
hot day, and the car crowded with sick people 
and babies and dirty Cubans and dirtier Cu- 
bans, all shaken up together and bumping over 
one of the roughest lines in the world. The result- 
ing profusion of assorted noises, smells, and sights 


68 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


made us quite ready to find the hotel at Matanzas 
very comfortable and to enjoy the good dinner. 

Matanzas had a Spanish plaza and a fine drive 
along the bay leading to the new American bar- 
racks. The carriages — called volantes, a sort of 
clumsy chaise with enormous wheels and shafts 
fourteen feet long — were exceedingly comfort- 
able. They were drawn by two horses hitched tan- 
dem with a postilion sitting on the second one. I 
recall a particularly pleasant ride to Ballamar, a 
beautiful cave with galleries running for a distance 
of nearly three miles, and great pillared halls and 
endless narrow passages with wonderful crystals. 

An early train next morning took us to Havana. 
Perhaps because we had been so long in funny 
little places, we were much struck with its size and 
general air of activity. Alice Roosevelt was visit- 
ing General and Mrs. Leonard Wood, the mil- 
itary governor and his wife. Virginia had sailed 
around the island to meet us, so we had Mrs. 
Wood and Alice on board for tea, and later went 
to acavalry review given in their honor at the Co- 
lumbia Barracks. There was always plenty doing 
wherever Alice appeared — like her father, she 
was a center of activity. 


ROUGH RIDER AND BUCCANEER 69 


The improvements wrought in Cuba by Ameri- 
can occupation were everywhere to be seen, but I 
fancy they were more appreciated by the foreign 
residents than by the natives. We dined with the 
Judge Advocate General in his delightful house 
with its garden overlooking the sea. He had been 
in Cuba almost from the first day of occupation 
and was much interested in speculating about the 
future of the island. However, he displayed a pes- 
simism in regard to the Cubans’ ability to govern 
themselves that later events have not absolutely 
justified. 

Another day brought us a chance to explore 
the great fortress of Cabafias, the largest that 
Vauban ever built. Up to that time it had been 
chiefly interesting as the scene of the last act in 
the life of any Cuban patriot who got caught — 
it was not pleasant to see the wall against which 
they had been shot. 

Our last hours on shore were spent among the 
shops, with a drive along the Prado, and after a 
few good-bye calls we went aboard and put out to 
sea with much signaling and saluting and waving 
of handkerchiefs to and from friends ashore. The 
weather was very fine, just breeze enough to make 


70 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


it cool, and a gentle ripple on the face of the 
waters. That evening a golden moon glowed in the 
heavens, and as Virginia turned her bow away 
from the Spanish Main, where sunken galleons 
and untold wealth of doubloons lie at the bottom 
of the sea, we all joined in a buccaneer sing-song? 
“ For no more shall the Kidd sail the Spanish Sea 
In his pirate craft so grim; 
Full well does he know that the gallows tree 
Has a welcome in store for him.” 


Morning found us racing through the beautiful 
blue-green water of the Bahama Bank, and after 
running all day along low-lying keys and coral 
islands, we dropped anchor that night off Nassau, 
northward and homeward-bound at last. 


CHAPTER IV 
Parties and Politics 


EARLty in his first administration President Roose- 
velt had advocated the conservation of woodland 
and other natural resources, and he worked stead- 
ily to that end throughout both his terms of office. 
Asa result, over forty million acres were added to 
the national forests. One of the Tillman-Roosevelt 
controversies arose from this project. It appeared 
that the President had accused Senator Tillman 
of having something to do with the land and lum- 
ber frauds in Oregon. A man from that State, who 
went with us to hear the speeches at the Senate 
and who knew all about the situation, called it 
a slightly shady affair, but questioned whether 
it was quite bad enough to justify the President 
in accusing Tillman publicly. Although it did not 
ruin the Senator’s reputation, it left somewhat of a 
stigma on his public career. However, Tilman did 
not show a very strong case for himself, nor was 
his speech as fiery as some that he had made. 

There had never been a greater crowd than that 


72 PRESIDENTS AND PIES’ 


morning, for every one wanted to hear what the 
choleric member from South Carolina would say 
on the subject. The galleries were overflowing, 
and streams of people went away disappointed. 
We waited, though, and were rewarded by being 
smuggled by a perfectly strange man into a gal- 
lery where we at least were able to stand and 
look and listen. 

At their desks down on the floor I could pick 
out several of the most influential Republican 
Senators — Hale, Allison, Aldrich, Lodge, Gal- 
linger, and Knox. Looking them all over critically 
it struck me that the Western type predominated 
however — a big-jawed, clean-shaven lot of men, 
rather inclined to be indifferent about clothes 
and hair. In the old days it was the North and 
South which provided the salient types. ‘“‘South- 
ern pomposity,’’ says Adams, ‘“‘when not arrogant, 
was genial and sympathetic, almost quaint and 
childlike in its simple-mindedness; quite differ- 
ent from the Websterian or Conklinian pomposity 
of the North.” 

The Capitol always was and always will be the 
most interesting place in Washington. At that 
time I went there frequently, listening to debates 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 73 


in both the Senate and the House. It was more 
or less a lottery what subjects would be brought 
up in the legislative sessions — sometimes the 
questions were vital and the speeches spirited, 
but often they were dull and the time dragged. 

I happened to be there when Senator Foraker, 
whom Roosevelt had attacked, made his reply. 
He seemed very nervous and excited and swished 
his notes round and called the President all kinds 
of names. The Brownsville affair came up, too, 
and great indignation was shown against Roose- 
velt. The galleries were filled with colored people. 
After all the talk there did not seem much head 
or tail to the affair, nor was any one the wiser. 

It was always more or less absorbing, but I 
found myself sharing the sentiments of a con- 
temporary satirist — “‘‘Well, I see Congress has 
got to wurrk again,’ said Mr. Dooley. ‘The Lord 
save us fr’m harm,’ said Mr. Hennessey.’’ One 
felt as if the orators were playing a game of words; 
that there was too much talking and very little 
accomplished. I believe much of the real work is 
done in committee rooms. 

The day on which we were first ushered into the 
Supreme Court stands out in my memory. The 


74 PRESIDENTS AND PIES! 


justices, all very impressive, entered in state, their 
dignified black robes somber in the subdued light. 
Best known among them were White, McKenna, 
Brewer, and Holmes. 

It was during Roosevelt’s second administra- 
tion that we went down from Washington on 
Roxana to see the opening of the Jamestown Ex- 
position, which was not at Jamestown at all, but 
near Norfolk, thirty miles or more down river. 
At Old Point Comfort the cheerful lights of the 
Chamberlin greeted us, and soon men-of-war 
loomed up at anchor in the Roads. That, of 
course, was before the days of low-visibility paint- 
ing, and the men-of-war were in solid colors— 
the four English a battle-gray, the two Austrian 
dark green — and in the semi-darkness they 
looked brooding and ominous, the impersonation 
of death. The next morning in the bright sun- 
shine there was still something superb and pow- 
erful about them, but less sinister. 

_ At an early hour the Mayflower, with the Presi- 
dent on board, was sighted in the distance, and all 
the warships fired salutes from six-pounders with 
black powder. The flashes and clouds of smoke and 
the deafening noise made it seem like a real battle. 


‘PARTIES AND POLITICS 75 


The naval display was on a larger scale and — 
curiously enough — much more impressive than 
an earlier one at Kiel where we had seen a great 
gathering of men-of-war, when the King of Eng- 
land steamed in on his black yacht and the Kaiser 
on his white one. At Hampton Roads there were 
two long lines of magnificent modern warships of 
every kind. The only country to send an old- 
fashioned battleship was Argentina; with the men 
on the yardarms, she stood out very conspicu- 
ously. It would be more correct to say, perhaps, 
that the South American vessel was the only one 
then considered out of date — some of the others 
must long since have been scrapped. 

As the Mayflower steamed down the line, the 
guns again thundered their salute; the yacht, drop- 
ping anchor, gathered launches about her as a 
magnet gathers needles, the Secretary of the 
Navy and all the admirals coming to pay their 
respects to the chief executive. Admiral Evans 
was in command of the fleet. President and 
Mrs. Roosevelt, with their party, soon set off for 
the exposition in their launch, which was quite 
like the other boats except that it flew the presi- 
dential blue flag with a white eagle; on either side 


76 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


a similar boat accompanied them as guard. Other 
craft quickly followed, bearing distinguished peo- 
ple, while hundreds more trailed along behind 
filled with sailors and marines for the parade. 
There were yachts and transports and govern- 
ment tugs with their parties, too, and a steamer 
from Washington with all the diplomats, as 
guests of the exhibition. . 

When Roosevelt stepped ashore, three hundred 
guns were fired in honor of the three hundredth 
anniversary of the first settlement of Virginia. 
His address and the military and naval parade 
which followed completed the formalities. 

On this opening day the Fair, like too many 
of our American expositions, was still in an un- 
finished condition. It was small, but artistically 
laid out, and the buildings were mostly of red 
brick with white trimmings, rather than the usual 
tawdry plaster. Each of the earlier fairs had 
had its own distinguishing features — Chicago, 
the White City, had its architectural effect; 
Buffalo, its electrical display; and St. Louis 
the best exhibits that we had ever seen in this 
country. Jamestown was chiefly devoted to the 
Army and Navy, but some of the state build- 


—_ 


LOREANM PIE 


THE DUKE OF THE ABRUZZI 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 77 


ings were very well done, such as the copy of the 
State House in Boston, and the Ohio building — 
a reproduction of a lovely old house at Chil- 
licothe. 

What a fantastic sight that evening were the 
two long lines of brilliantly lighted ships! They 
sparkled in the darkness like fairy vessels, and 
were the abode of little shining spirits with 
twinkling, waving arms, in reality the signal- 
men wigwagging back and forth. 

The British carried electric lights on the water- 
line and were especially showy, but on ours 
the gleaming names added greatly to the display; 
the Germans outlined their flags so that they 
glowed like jewels in the sky, while the masts and 
yardarms of all the men-of-war lifted high into 
the heavens their illuminated crosses. 

The electrical display lasted until midnight. The 
only sound was an occasional faint strain of music 
from one of the boats where, if you looked closely 
enough, you could see shadowy beings whirling 
about on deck. 

Distinguished visitors had arrived on the foreign 
vessels and were féted. Among them was the Duke 
of the Abruzzi, a prince of the House of Savoy, 


78 PRESIDENTS AND PIES” 


although he had been born in Spain while his 
father was king of that country. He was still 
young and a good fellow. Already he was re- 
nowned as an Arctic explorer, for he had distanced 
all except Peary in the race for the North Pole. 
His record as a mountain climber was good, too, 
for he had stood on the top of Mt. St. Elias in 
Alaska, and scaled another almost inaccessible 
peak in Africa. 

A few days later a water carnival took place. 
Dinners and balls were given on board the ships, 
while floating pageants of Indians and Japanese 
dragons passed by. At the various festivities Ad- 
miral Kuroki, the hero of the Yalu, calm, smiling, 
covered with medals, rivaled the Duke in the 
attention he attracted. 

In connection with the exposition we made a 
charming trip up the broad, coffee-colored James 
to the island that was the real landing-place of 
John Smith. On the site of the little settlement 
were some ancient graves, and the tower of the 
chapel where Pocahontas and Rolfe were married. 
A small red-brick church was under construction. 
and, in its half-finished condition, looked by 
moonlight as if it might really be the ruins of the 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 79 


original. Within it lay a tablet in memory of one 
of L.’s ancestors, Richard Clough. 

It was our good fortune to visit Jamestown Is- 
land at the same time that Mr. Allison Armour 
landed there with his yachting party, which in- 
cluded Mr. Thomas Nelson Page, later ambassa- 
dor to Italy, and General Leuwenfelt, at that time 
one of the most important men in Germany. He 
had been sent to this country by the Kaiser to 
represent him at the opening of the Carnegie In- 
stitute at Pittsburgh and the unveiling of the 
statue of Frederick at the War College in Wash- 
ington. Mr. Page’s address gave a vivid sense of 
the mingled pathos and romance of Virginian 
history. Afterwards we stood in the silent church 
and joined in reciting the Lord’s Prayer. 

No one with a boat at his command could resist 
the temptation to continue his trip farther up the 
beautiful river to the fascinating old colonial man- 
sions along its banks. Lower Brandon, the home 
of the Harrisons, was indeed a treat; the grounds 
were beautifully laid out; flowering dogwood and 
peach trees in blossom, and lovely green, grassy 
paths from the river to the house bordered with 
cowslips on either side. The mansion had ex- 


80 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


quisitely carved woodwork, rare old furniture 
filled the spacious chambers, and quaint family 
silver gleamed in cabinets in the dining-room. 
The delightful Southern people who lived there 
made us feel at home and entertained us with 
the history of the family portraits upon the 
walls. The bullet holes in front of the house were 
a sad reminder of the Civil War—or, as they 
prefer to call it, the War between the States. 
Upper Brandon, tumbledown and overgrown as 
it then was, had a real charm because it had been 
left quite in its original condition; it, too, con- 
tained some finely carved woodwork. Still farther 
up was one of the most interesting of all the 
old Virginia residences — Westover. This had 
been beautifully preserved — the main house with 
its wings, its white steps and columns, its out- 
buildings and round dove-cotes, were all in repair 
and complete. Huge pin oaks shaded the house; 
there were fine old gates of wrought ironwork, 
a garden with tall box hedges, and the tomb of 
the famous Colonel Byrd. As one approaches 
Richmond the copper-colored river gets narrower 
and narrower. The oldest house in the State is 
Shirley, the Carter place, with its fine portrait of 


THOMAS NELSON PAGE 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 81 


George Washington done from life by Peel. Each 
house has a quality quite its own, and Tucka- 
hoe, the last we visited, fascinated us quite as 
much as the others with its strange story of 
ghostly shadows that appear from time to time 
upon the walls, the story told by the lady of the 
house who had often seen the apparitions herself. 
But really one had only to read the pages of Vir- 
ginian annals to people all these mansions with the 
shadows of their former occupants, men and wo- 
men who made the greatness of their native State. 

Before leaving the exposition we invited the 
Duke of the Abruzzi to dine with us in Washington, 
and it was at our house that he met Miss Elkins, 
beginning an acquaintance which caused so much 
discussion. Later when we went back to Brook- 
line he stayed with us at “ Weld.” 

On the morning that the Italian ship Varese 
came in, L. motored into Boston to pick up the 
Italian consul, then went over to the Navy Yard 
and from there sailed down the harbor to meet 
the huge dun-colored vessel. The Duke appeared 
on deck and called them aboard, so L. negotiated 
a perilous bit of plank and sat for a while in the 
Duke’s cabin, trying to see what his plans might 


82 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


be. There was the matter of a degree that Har- 
vard was to give him, and several other things 
which he seemed to rely on L. to arrange. 

That noon the Duke motored out to ‘‘ Weld,” 
where we gathered in the Italian garden and had 
luncheon in the marble pergola by the trickling 
fountain. The day was most fortunate — sum- 
mery but pearly with mist; all around the wide 
horizon the sky was beautiful with yellows and 
blues and grays, and the view of the city below 
and the harbor beyond strangely far for such an 
atmosphere. A certain mystery lay over it all — 
even our hilltop garden, with its statues, and 
balustraded terraces and splashes of color, looked 
unreal. Some musicians from the Symphony Or- 
chestra played softly in the distance, just far 
enough away to sound magical. 

It was still early in the afternoon when I drove 
the Duke over to the Country Club in the phaeton 
with the pretty chestnut horses. Two mounted 
officers joined us and led the procession. All the 
carriages on their way had been stopped, so we 
drove up in spanking style, and the bars were let 
down for us at a special entrance behind the 
grand ‘stand. 


' PARTIES AND POLITICS 83 


The grounds were lovely, the boxes full of 
pretty women, and the racing really good. His 
Royal Highness was, of course, the feature of the 
afternoon, for all looked at him and he stood 
being looked at very well. We had been a little 
bit worried, for he had told us that threatening 
letters had been received ; but everywhere he went 
there were lynx-eyed secret service men, and there 
was n’t a single disagreeable occurrence. 

After the races we motored into town where 
Roxana’s gig was waiting to take us out to the 
yacht. After cruising down the bay to Pemberton, 
our party trolleyed to Nantasket and on to Para- 
gon Park, where, though it was rather late, we had 
an hour for seeing the sights. The Duke wanted to 
try out all the novelties, and by the time we got 
back to the yacht and home I, for one, was tired 
out. 

Next morning the Duke and his aide, the 
Marquis Negrotto, made the rounds of the Har- 
vard clubs with L., called on President Eliot, 
visited the Institute of Technology, and had tiffin 
with Charles Francis Adams at the Somerset 
Club. After that they dashed out to Cambridge 
and saw an exciting baseball game. The Duke 


84 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


went back to his ship, and later in the evening L. 
met His Highness again at the dinner which the 
Governor was giving him — quite a fine affair 
with a hundred and fifty guests, many of them in 
uniform. 

On Commencement Day the Duke, who had 
returned to “ Weld,’”’ came down at eight in the 
morning in full dress with all his decorations — 
he certainly did know how to wear his uniform, 
too! The Commonwealth of Massachusetts was to 
take charge of His Royal Highness and had sent 
out a magnificent general in full regalia to escort 
him, along with an automobile that would n’t 
start. When they finally did get away, with the 
aforesaid magnificent general crowding himself 
into the seat beside the Duke, there was an ap- 
preciative twinkle in the latter’s eye. 

Following in our car, we watched the procession 
pass up Beacon Street — the Governor taking the 
Duke and his staff out to Commencement, con- 
voyed by the Lancers with scarlet jackets and 
pennons flying, for this is the one day in the year 
when the Lancers appear in their glory, escorting 
the Governor out to the college ceremonies. 

At Sanders Theater I sat with Mrs. Eliot’s 


NATUVO ATM :AAHONAT AYN AHL AYA 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 85 


guests, the British and French ambassadresses 
and others, and saw the conferring of the de- 
grees. After attending a reception at the Eliots’ 
house, L. took the Duke and his aide to the A.D. 
Club for a bite. As Secretary Root and the Post- 
master-General were also there, it made quite a 
distinguished little party. After an awful crush at 
the chief marshal’s spread, the procession formed 
for the afternoon exercises at Memorial Hall. Here 
the Duke made a very nice speech, L. having 
gone over it with him and told him how to pro- 
nounce the more difficult words. He left early 
to catch his ship and take her down the harbor 
before dark, for he did all his own navigating. 
The rest of us went into town to board a yacht 
where the Duke, having left the Varese at anchor 
off Boston Light, joined us for dinner. It was twi- 
light when we steamed away from the wharf to- 
ward where his ship was lying. While we were 
out, a dash of wind and rain came up, the first 
' bit of bad weather during his whole visit, but it 
was over by the time we came alongside the Var- 
ese. So His Royal Highness went away with many 
good-byes, and as the boats parted he turned out 
the guard, and while his band played the “Star- 


86 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Spangled Banner,’ a very pretty compliment, he 
stood on the bridge and waved adieu. 

Later a new destroyer was about to be launched 
at the Fore River shipyards, and as it was to be 
named Perkins in honor of my father, the Sec- 
retary of the Navy asked me to christen it. In 
Boston a number of people joined our party, 
among them Roosevelt’s brother-in-law, Admiral 
Cowles, a genial, lovable man, and his wife, the 
President’s sister, was full of energy like her 
brother. 

The shipyard was a brilliant scene, as the sun 
shone down upon the gay holiday throng which 
stood within the flag-draped enclosure. About ten 
o'clock in the forenoon the signal was given, and 
everything went off without a hitch. I smashed the 
bottle and the crowd broke into cheers, while the 
whistles tooted madly, and the ship slipped grace- 
fully into the water. None of us realized what 
stirring service she would see in this great war. 

Soon after this event came a visit to Annapolis. 
The Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Meyer, had gone 
down there on the Dolphin and had kindly al- 
lowed Roxana to moor at the dock near by so 
that we could see everything that was to be 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 87 


seen. It was a gala day to celebrate Mr. Meyer’s 
first visit. The commandant of the yard came to 
pay his respects to him, soon after our arrival, 
and escorted him in and out of every building on 
the place. As a band played every time the Sec- 
retary moved, it kept going pretty constantly. 
Many officers in full dress went and came on the 
Dolphin and a splendid review took place on the 
green. I thought the new buildings of the Naval 
Academy too ornate, but set in the beautiful 
grounds, the clustered town with its old-fashioned 
steeples rising behind them, they formed a charm- 
ing picture. 

A destroyer took us to see a race between 
Columbia and the Academy up the pretty Severn 
River with its high red banks and green fields 
stretching away in the distance. The contest was 
very close, but we were happy because in the 
end the Navy won. When it ended, the Meyer 
party came aboard Roxana and we steamed 
across to Whitehall, a two-winged, brick house, 
once the home of royal governors, and wandered 
about the garden, gathering iris and lilacs. 

Sunday morning at Annapolis the air was full 
of mist, but we landed and walked over to the 


88 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


old training ship Santee lying at the wharf, a 
fascinating craft with its great suites of rooms 
and its small windows aft with flowers in them. 
Down on the deck below us the captain could be 
heard reading the articles of war to the seamen 
and men-at-arms. His cook had been tried by 
court-martial for going off for two days without 
leave and getting drunk, so his sentence read four 
days’ imprisonment and thirty dollars off his pay. 
The man’s face showed no sign of emotion except 
a slight quiver of the lips as he listened to his 
sentence. 

The band struck up and we left to go to chapel, 
a new one built on the site of the old, in which 
lies John Paul Jones’s body, brought from France 
some years ago. The chaplain, who had been at 
the Academy a long time, preached a very good 
sermon for the cadets on the subject of honor, and 
the whole service was impressive. 

That day L. and I had luncheon with a Mary- 
land family in their old-fashioned house, full of 
exquisite china, engraved glass, priceless prints, 
and antique furniture. The ladiesof the house were 
delightful hostesses, tall, thin, and distinguished, 
with charming manners. Like so many Southern- 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 89 


ers, they had been ruined by the Civil War. No 
doubt they had cooked the meal themselves with 
the aid of an old darky, and it was delicious. The 
bottle of wine that came from their cellar had 
been treasured for generations. The ménage was 
typical of that of many people living to-day in 
the lovely old houses of Annapolis. 

Back on the boat that night we had a jolly 
dinner. Adding to the amusement was the presen- 
tation of a live baby bear as a mascot for Roxana 
— such a funny, furry little creature! It had to be 
fed from a nursing bottle, and even then cried all 
night so that hardly a soul got a wink of sleep. 
But that didn’t matter very much, for some of 
our guests stayed up all night anyway, to watch 
for Halley’s comet, and when it became visible 
they called the rest of us. It wasa heavenly night, 
and the harbor of Annapolis lay still and gleam- 
ing. The new moon shone just over the mast of 
the boat, with Venus near by; the twilight of the 
dawn had just begun when, above the first faint 
flush, appeared the comet, a crimson streak across 
the sky. 

During Roosevelt’s administration a bronze 
statue of my father, by Daniel Chester French, 


90 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


was placed on the balcony of the Hall of Fame 
in the Naval Academy — a resolute and daring 
figure, in full-dress uniform, the left hand resting 
on the hilt of his sword. The family thought the 
likeness faithful to a remarkable degree. My 
father had entered the Navy as a midshipman 
when only fourteen years old, and had served his 
country for forty years. At the unveiling a class- 
mate described him as ‘‘skilled and resourceful 
as a seaman, tactful and just as a commanding 
officer, intrepid in spirit and heroic in doing 
... stanch and true asa friend ...an alert and 
heartsome man of the sea, whom Farragut de- 
lighted to honor as one of the most trusted and 
dashing of his captains.” 

Roosevelt’s second term was coming to its 
close, and not a few people at that time had be- 
gun to agree with the author of “Alice in Out- 
looking Land” in their estimate of Roosevelt’s 
policies: 

“The Red Knight had been rowing for a long 
time and Alice noticed that they were still in the 
same place. That was on account of the peculiar 
way in which the Red Knight handled the oars. 
He pulled at the right oar as hard as he could and 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 91 


he pushed with the left oar as hard as he could 
and the boat went round and round in a circle. 

“We are n’t getting any nearer the shore, are 
we?’ he asked anxiously. 

“Not a bit,’ said Alice. 

“““That’s fine,’ said the Red Knight. ‘Now you 
can see that I am neither a wild-eyed radical nor 
a moss-grown reactionary.’”’ 

Nevertheless a good many of his friends urged 
him to stand for a third term, arguing that after 
all he had only been elected as President once. 
But T. R. held out quite firmly against their pro- 
jects and made a series of statements which he 
had some difficulty in rescinding afterwards. He 
seemed quite anxious to have Taft for his suc- 
cessor, and the forthcoming Republican conven- 
tion at Chicago offered to develop some interest- 
ing situations. 

We pulled into the Windy City early in the 
morning of the 15th of June, 1908. Chicago al- 
ways depresses me, for there seem to be such 
extremes of wealth and poverty and so much 
distress; the parks are always full of miserable- 
looking devils — and yet the shopping districts 
are crowded with over-dressed people. We found 


92 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


rooms in the very thick of the fight, at the Con- 
gress Hotel, with all the State committees above, 
below, and about us. What a mob of queer char- 
acters from every corner of the country — Osh- 
kosh, Peoria, Kalamazoo — from Alaska, Porto 
Rico, and the Philippines! Our huge leviathan 
of a hotel was the headquarters for everything 
and everybody. Its corridors were really impas- 
sable, and its lobbies jammed with fat, smooth- 
faced politicians carrying huge cigars in the cor- 
ners of their mouths, and here and there a few 
gayly dressed women wearing the badges of their 
candidates. 

All day processions of cheerful idiots paraded 
on the wide, ugly mall out in front, toward the 
lake, carrying parasols of different colors, counter- 
marching in foolish circles, and at last taking up 
positions that spelled the name of Knox. Another 
club had a live elephant with Taft’s picture; and 
there were Indians with Sherman’s portrait to 
boom him for Vice-President. Fairbanks was much 
discussed. He would surely be Vice-President. No; 
he would run only for President. An amazing car- 
toon by McCutcheon appeared, representing Fair- 
banks and Sherman being chased by Miss Vice- 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 93 


President, with the caption: ‘Fairbanks may 
stumble!”’ 

Getting tickets was a struggle which lasted all 
day, and even then remained a matter of great 
uncertainty, but we finally succeeded in having 
some reserved for us, and in the end had enough 
and to spare. The weather was fortunately cool. 
We walked about a mile to the Coliseum, which 
seated twelve thousand people. Our places were 
on the platform behind the speakers and as a 
consequence we heard scarcely a word they said. 
The hall blazed with flags and bunting and the 
galleries were gay with color. The building was 
a superb sight, crowded with its myriads of eager 
people. é 

The first day did not turn out to be terribly ex- 
citing — in fact, it was rather disappointing. Fine 
spectacle though it was, it lacked enthusiasm. A 
banner of dear Mr. Taft brought in caused no 
demonstration, while even the mention of Roose- 
velt led to only moderate applause. The session, 
from twelve until two, was a short one, luckily. 
Then we returned to the hotel and had a good 
cold tiffin in our room. 

Next day there was more doing. In the center of 


04 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the floor sat the delegates. Lodge, as permanent 
chairman, presided splendidly, and all his speeches 
and decisions were so thoroughbred and parlia- 
mentary. There were periods of excitement and 
cheering which broke up the proceedings and were 
amusing till they became tiresome, for some of 
them lasted fully three quarters of an hour, and 
after the original outburst were rather perfunc- 
tory and organized. Even the applause which 
greeted Lodge’s mention of Roosevelt was rowdy 
and disappointing, perhaps the shoutings of hood- 
lums who had slipped in. 

Somebody brought in a large Teddy-bear and 
passed it round, almost causing a riot. It finally 
rolled beneath the feet of a lot of people who were 
fighting to get possession of it, and the police ar- 
riving on the scene suppressed the excitement, 
while the Teddy-bear disappeared for good and 
always. The cheering for La Follette was mixed in 
with that for Roosevelt — a sort of good-bye ova- 
tion. There was much voting and oratory on the 
question of reducing the representation from the 
Southern States —a colored delegate spoke re- 
markably well, but it all amounted to nothing, 
for no change was made. 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 95 


On the third day the session was opened by a 
woman singing, and by clubs marching through 
the aisles with bands and much cheering. We sat 
in one spot for eight hours, again on the platform, 
with a bottle of water for our only refreshment. It 
was more than crowded and you could not leave, 
for you would never get your seat again. A man 
near us talked continually during the speaking, 
and getting no encouragement, finally got up, say- 
ing he guessed he would leave because the man 
next him was so nervous. The other retaliated 
by exclaiming, no wonder — his neighbor talked 
so loud he could n’t hear a word of the speeches! 
A knock-down fight resulted. There were many 
comments in the newspapers next day — it was 
charged that the ushers had admitted so many 
of their friends that the ticket-holders who ar- 
rived late were not allowed entrance. 

Much of the speaking was of the Wild-West 
order, flamboyant and high-flown, with ranting 
and antics; several of the ‘‘orators’’ were so in- 
toxicated with their own verbosity that they 
talked too long and were guyed by the crowd. This 
was undignified, but so amusing that it gave va- 
riety to the proceedings. 


96 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


“Uncle Joe’’ Cannon received much applause 
from his native State. Fairbanks had a moderate 
amount, too, but Governor Hanly’s speech nomi- 
nating him was very long, and everybody became 
so hot and tired that they called ‘‘Time! Time!” 
But he declared vehemently that he would stop 
when he got ready, whereat everybody shouted, 
“‘Get ready! Get ready!’’ As the Governor talked, 
he clapped his hands to emphasize his words, 
and the crowd clapped with him, so we all got 
into gales of laughter. 

Little enthusiasm fell to Hughes, but the ex- 
citement over La Follette was perfectly amaz- 
ing. In the light of recent events, we can hardly 
be thankful enough that the latter has never 
been elected to the chief office of the Nation. 
Claquers were posted about, and a burly, long- 
haired man from Wisconsin howled in our ears 
for at least fifteen minutes, “‘La Follette! He’s 
all right! La Follette and the square deal!’’ Then 
Roosevelt’s picture was produced — “Four years 


99 
! 


more, Theodore!’’ Afterwards there came twenty 
minutes’ applause for Taft, and he finally was 
nominated by seven hundred votes. 


Excitement continued in the air on Friday, for 


PARTIES AND POLITICS 97 


no one knew who would be Vice-President. Fair- 
banks was out of the running, for his friend, Gov- 
ernor Hanly, had said in his speech that Fair- 
banks was a builder, not a destroyer, a remark 
which, we heard, made Roosevelt very angry. 
Consequently the administration did not wish 
him chosen for the office and decided instead 
upon Congressman Sherman. There was great 
enthusiasm for him, and he, too, received about 
seven hundred votes. So the convention of 1908 
ended, and we were very happy at the way things 
had turned out. 


CHAPTER V 
Enter Mr. Taft 


THE day of President Taft’s inaugural had been 
preceded by some lovely warm spring weather, 
but that morning there swept over the city a 
terrible blizzard, one of the worst ever known in 
Washington. The snow lay deep on the ground 
and the wind howled. To make it worse, the 
Weather Bureau had predicted a fine day, and 
so of course no one was prepared for the sudden 
change. It did not seem possible that the pro- 
cession could take place, but on the chance that 
it might our house party crowded into machines 
and ploughed over to the rooms we had engaged 
on the corner of Fifteenth Street and New York 
Avenue, where a good view of the Court of Honor 
and the long perspective of the street could be 
obtained. 

While waiting for the procession, we made our- 
selves very comfortable in our rooms and passed 
the time playing cards, and looking out into the 
wind-beaten and slushy streets, and pitying the 


ENTER MR. TAFT 99 


poor shivering little fellows in the Philippine 
band that was playing just below us. They were 
inadequately clad in khaki uniforms with red- 
lined capes, and looked not only wet, but cold. 
We had engaged them to play at our reception 
the next evening, and could n’t help wondering 
how many of them would be able to appear. 

At last the moment of the procession arrived, 
and we all rushed to the windows to see—a 
closed carriage drawn by four horses, with some 
secret service men walking along on either side, 
— more like a funeral than anything else. That 
was all. Roosevelt, Taft, and Lodge were inside, 
we heard afterwards, but it might have been the 
Crown Prince of Siam for all we could see. 

L. and a few of the party took a machine and 
drove to the Capitol on the chance of being able 
to hear the speaking. But because of the weather 
the arrangements had been changed and the oath 
of office was administered and the address deliv- 
ered inside the building. ‘‘ Nothing doing!” sang 
out a policeman, so back they came. 

Undaunted, we ventured out once more into 
the storm, this time to go to the White House for 
luncheon. It was lucky we had motors of our 


100 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


own, because people could n’t hire conveyances 
for love nor money. Among the hundred or more 
guests were General and Mrs. Corbin, who had 
to come in from Chevy Chase in a farm wagon, 
so bundled up and so covered with snow that 
they looked like tramps, and had a hard time 
being admitted to the White House grounds. 

The Vice-President, looking like a Methodist 
minister with his side whiskers, was the first to 
arrive from the Capitol and with him his sweet 
little wife. Then came the President and Mrs. 
Taft. It was the first time in history that the 
President’s wife had accompanied him to the 
White House after the inauguration; this was be- 
cause Roosevelt did not drive back with his suc- 
cessor according to the established custom. 

Mr. Taft retired to a private room for tiffin, 
and then walked out onto the stand in the White 
House grounds to review the troops. After lunch- 
eon the guests took leave of Mrs. Taft at the 
dining-room door and followed onto the plat- 
form. Pennsylvania Avenue had been cleared of 
snow for the procession, and the sun came out, 
but the soldiers and horses looked cold and not 
very trig. 


ENTER MR. TAFT 101 


The train that carried the West Point cadets 
was stalled in the snow near Baltimore. With 
the meager supply of tools that were at hand, 
the cadets removed the snow and fallen telegraph 
wires from the track for a distance of thirty 
miles, thus clearing the line for countless storm- 
bound trains. Then the boys, arriving in Wash- 
ington too late for the parade and in a state of 
exhaustion, nevertheless swung into the Avenue, 
marched past the reviewing stand, and returned 
to their cars, which started at once for New York. 
The Spartan-spirited student soldiers had sup- 
ported their Commander-in-Chief in fine style, 
and without sharing any of the pleasure of the 
occasion. 

Captain Devore, an old friend of ours who had 
just come up from Cuba with his troops, told us 
afterwards that owing to the confusion of the 
railways, he and his men had been obliged to 
camp in tents outside the city through that 
dreadful night and march into town the next 
morning. It was fortunate the railroad station was 
large and well heated, for fifteen thousand people 
spent the night there, stormbound. 

For the Inaugural Ball that evening fifty-five 


102 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


aides had been chosen from the different States 
and Territories. L., representing the District of 
Columbia, was one of these “‘beauties,’”’ as they 
were facetiously called, so he gave a dinner for 
them at the house before they went on duty. I 
peeped through the door and heard a few of the 
speeches. 

Of course the aides had to be at the ball early, 
so we got there in time to watch the people arrive. 
Holding a red, white, and blue cord, they made a 
long aisle through the center of the hall, down 
which the President would walk. Roosevelt had 
had only a steel cord and a much shorter path. 
Owing perhaps to its length, Taft’s progress was 
particularly impressive. Following the President 
and his wife — who looked the serious, clever 
woman that she is— came the Vice-President 
and Mrs. Sherman, and then the aides. Every 
one clapped and cheered. The party went up to 
the balcony floor and entered the red-and-gold 
presidential box, which was filled with relatives 
and friends, among whom we found ourselves 
included. 

I can’t say that the President seemed to enjoy 
the publicity very much; indeed, he looked un- 


ENTER MR. TAFT 103 


easy and as if he would rather not have had so 
conspicuous a seat as the huge, throne-like chair 
which had been placed for him. There was no mis- 
taking him for the genial, level-headed man that 
we knew him to be, with plenty of room for 
brains in his fine big head; but he certainly seemed 
shy that night. 

Most people were optimistic about the new 
executive, quite apart from their personal liking 
for him. He proved a man of fine honor and his 
administration was marked by many excellencies 
and few faults, by sound measures and good states- 
manship. Having no desire to play to the gallery, 
he never considered whether his course of action 
would prove popular, but rather whether or not 
it would be the best thing for the country. 

He had had Lincoln’s motto framed and set up 
before his seat in the Cabinet room of the White 
House: 

“Tf I were to try to read, much less answer, 
all the attacks made on me, this shop might as 
well be closed for any other business. I do the 
very best I know how — the very best I can: and 
I mean to keep on doing so until the end. If the 
end brings me out all right, what is said against 


104 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


me won’t amount to anything. If the end brings 
me out wrong, ten angels swearing I was right 
would make no difference.” 

Taft’s inaugural address blocked out his poli- 
cies, not too confidently and not at all dramati- 
cally, but with an intelligent moderation. He be- 
gan with the tariff, promised business stability 
(which after the panic of 1907 was reassuring), 
condemned false economy, especially at a time 
when the Government was facing a heavy defi- 
cit; he promised to continue the conservation of 
national resources, saving and restoring forests 
and improving waterways. Even then he fore- 
saw the necessity of maintaining a proper Army 
and Navy and suitable fortifications, asking for 
an army so organized and officered that in a 
moment of emergency it could expand into ‘‘a 
force sufficient to resist all probable invasion from 
abroad and to furnish a respectable expeditionary 
force, if necessary, in the maintenance of our tra- 
ditional American policy which bears the name 
of President Monroe.” 

Altogether it may be said that few Presidents 
ever made a more far-sighted and clear-headed 
address, and that none ever attempted to carry 


ENTER MR. TAFT 105 


out their policies with more sincerity and disin- 
terestedness. He was particularly well fitted for 
the office, not only on account of his splendid 
record as judge, but also because of the ex- 
ecutive experience gained while Governor of the 
Philippines and later as Secretary of War. 

Mr. Taft was always wholesome and radiated 
geniality. He has a finely developed sense of hu- 
mor which buoyed him up in the days of party 
adversity. One enthusiastic admirer wrote to him 
to ignore the slings and arrows of his enemies 
as history would accord him a place second only 
to Washington. With an expansive smile that 
cannot be reproduced in words, the President 
inquired, ‘‘Why lug in Washington?” 

A daring independent newspaper in New York 
once disposed of Cleveland’s qualifications edi- 
torially and ironically by the laconic statement, 
“he is a good man, weighing two hundred and 
sixty pounds.’”’ Now President Taft is and was a 
good man in every sense, and weighed even more 
than two hundred and sixty pounds, although he 
carried it well, having been from boyhood a great 
athlete. At Yale he was the champion wrestler, 
and throughout his later life he has taken long 


106 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


daily walks, and, whenever possible, has indulged 
his taste for golf. 

Mr. Taft and Mr. Root were known to be 
devoted friends; when the former went to the 
Philippines, he had a severe illness, and during 
the period of convalescence received a sympa- 
thetic inquiry from Secretary Root as to the 
state of his health. Taft cabled that he had suffi- 
ciently recovered to make it possible for him to 
take a Iong ride on his horse, to which Root re- 
plied by wire, ‘‘Fine! How’s the horse?” 

His affection for his aged aunt, Miss Delia Tor- 
rey, became a matter of general knowledge. She 
was a sterling character and her New England 
thrift delighted the President. One of his typical 
stories regarding her concerned a recipe for mak- 
ing drop cakes which she was asked to give to his 
sister-in-law. Aunt Delia specified the ingredients 
and proportions with painstaking detail, includ- 
ing a small quantity of lard, adding that if the 
cakes were being made ‘‘for company, use butter.” 

He always had a strong liking for General 
Edwards, who has lately become quite a promi- 
nent figure in New England. They tell a story 
about the two men which is worth repeating. 


ENTER MR. TAFT 107 


It seems that General Edwards, an active and 
progressive member of the Chevy Chase Club 
in Washington, was partially responsible for the 
design of the new club-house. When it was fin- 
ished — a long, low structure of gray stone, of 
considerable beauty — the General tried to in- 
duce the President to go out and inspect it. Mr. 
Taft finally penalized the General for his persis- 
tency by a written statement — in which, unfor- 
tunately, the twinkle could not be transmitted — 
declaring that he regarded the new edifice as a 
splendid specimen of pure penitentiary colonial. 

A house-painter once asked the President for 
an appointment to the Cabinet — preferably, he 
said, as Secretary of Commerce and Labor. Feel- 
ing unable to grant this request, Mr. Taft tried 
to soften his refusal by explaining that a Cabi- 
net portfolio called for a big man, but the appli- 
cant retorted, much to Mr. Taft’s delight, that 
if the President would appoint him to the posi- 
tion he would then be a big man! 

There can be no doubt about the genuine re- 
gard which Mr. Taft felt for Colonel Roosevelt 
before the catastrophe which rent their relations 
and split a great political party. Their friend- 


108 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ship, begun in the Harrison administration, had 
ripened by long intercourse into a steady affec- 
tion. Even after the schism, Taft delighted in 
commenting upon situations which he knew 
would appeal to the Colonel’s sense of humor. 
He was sure that his old friend must have rel- 
ished more than any one else the delightful story 
of the public dinner given in New York to Am- 
bassador Straus upon his retirement when Mr. 
Roosevelt praised his public service and stated 
that before appointing him to his Cabinet he 
looked the country over for the fittest man, per- 
mitting no circumstance of race or creed, calling 
or location, to restrict or influence his selection. — 
Mr. Straus, the colonel declared, was the out- 
standing man, and called to the Cabinet for that. 
reason. A little later, so the story goes, Mr. Jacob 
H. Schiff got up to make a speech. But his hearing 
was not very acute, and not having caught what 
Mr. Roosevelt had said, he calmly announced 
that the President had written him that he had 
a vacancy in his Cabinet and would like to have 
him suggest some prominent Jew for the place, 
so he had proposed Oscar Straus, whose appoint- 
ment had quickly followed. Taft knew that the 


ENTER MR. TAFT 109 


President would find the situation more laugh- 
able than embarrassing. 

On March 5, the day after the Inaugural, I 
went to leave cards at the White House, and on 
reaching the steps, the President and his brother 
came out and greeted us, insisting that we should 
go indoors and have tea with Mrs. Taft. L. and I 
found her in the Red Room; it was the first time 
she had served tea in the White House and it 
was quite amusing, for “The First Lady in the 
Land” did not know where the bells were nor 
how the kettle worked. 

Mrs. Taft told me that she had n’t closed an 
eye the night before. They had occupied the room 
where the Prince of Wales — Edward VII — had 
slept. Besides the magnificent four-poster bed 
already there, she had had a brass bed put in for 
herself, and consequently the room did not look 
very well. In the middle of the night, as she lay 
there awake, she fell to thinking about it. 

“Will, you know you are sleeping in the King 
of England’s royal couch,” she said at last; ‘‘but 
the room looks so badly—with different sized 
beds — shall we take out the King’s and put in 
two small ones?” 


110 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


“‘Oh, darn the beds,” the President answered 
sleepily: ‘‘take them or leave them, as you like, 
but go to sleep now!” 

We had planned two receptions, one to be given 
the night of the 5th of March, the other on the 
6th. Because of the storm, the telephone wires 
were down and notes were coming to me by the 
hundred — it seemed as if every one I had asked 
wanted to bring friends. It was a wonder the 
floors did n’t collapse, for about four hundred 
people came to each reception. 

As I had feared, most of the Filipinos had fallen 
ill with colds as a result of their exposure in the 
storm, but thirty of the eighty members of the 
band turned up and did the best they could, play- 
ing curious tunes that were weird, but captivating. 

I received in the Key Room at the head of the 
stairs. The marble staircase was lined on either 
side with pots of bright flowers, echoing the col- 
ors of Villegas’ ‘‘Triumph of the Dogaressa”’ at 
the landing. The Key Room — named from the 
Greek design of the marble floor — was especially 
appropriate for us to use on this occasion, be- 
cause a panel between the windows shows a fresco 
of the pleasant Ohio Valley and the city of Cin- 


ENTER MR. TAFT Ill 


cinnati, from which President Taft’s family, as 
well as L.’s, had come. 

The guests wandered about, had supper, and 
indulged in bridge. Among others the Italian Am- 
bassador came, and the British Ambassador, the 
Danish Minister, and the Secretary of State, and 
the Governors of Massachusetts and New Hamp- 
shire with their staffs. 

Alice Longworth, who likes to joke, went round 
saying: “ Why, you here? This is the goat party — 
the swells are asked for to-morrow night!” She 
pretended to be piqued at not having been asked 
for the second reception. “If I had been the Presi- 
dent’s daughter,” she told L., “you would have 
invited me to both parties!’’ But it was really a 
brilliant sight that night with the many uniforms, 
even if Cousin Alice did call it the goat party, and 
I think people enjoyed it. 

To vary the second reception we had singing 
instead of the Philippine band. The singer, Mme. 
Gerville-Réache, arrived early, and startled me 
a little by her appearance as well as her powerful, 
deep voice; she was very dark, much powdered, 
and her flowers and curls nearly fell off in her 
dramatic interpretations. Janpolski sang some 


112 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


gay, strange Russian folk-songs. Among the guests 
on this occasion were many of the Taft family, 
and the President sent us a message thanking us 
for the entertainments we were giving in honor 
of the Inauguration. 

The dinners in Washington that season were 
not only many and unusual, but some of them 
had a Bohemian flavor that was quite de- 
lightful. 

For instance, there was a lively evening spent at 
the Alibi Club. The quaint little rooms, their walls 
covered with clever sketches, were filled with peo- 
ple and smoke. Mrs. Clarence Edwards received, 
and Mrs. Bourke Cockran and her sister sat on 
the floor and gave Samoan songs quite enchant- 
ingly. Mrs. Gibson, the artist’s wife, also sang, 
and Nicholas Longworth played the violin, and 
there were many card tricks. The dinner took 
place, as usual, in the kitchen, where pots and 
pans adorned the walls. The cooking, of the 
good old Southern kind, was generally done by 
the members themselves; sometimes one of them 
bringing in a duck that he had shot, as a contri- 
bution to the menu. That night the table had a 
pond in the center with fish and boats and a 


ANDREW J. PETERS NICHOLAS LONGWORTH 


ENTER MR. TAFT 113 


lighthouse, while in a corner of the room was a 
tree on which perched an owl with illuminated, 
blinking eyes, and near by smiled the round face 
of ashining moon. To help make things even more 
lively the guests were supplied with snap crackers 
and confetti. 

A series of political dinners followed. We at- 
tended one at Senator Brandegee’s, where old 
Joe Cannon was full of his fight, and he and 
Aldrich talked as though they felt bitterly the 
criticism both had received. Aldrich said he had 
passed seventy and at the end of the term would 
refuse to run again; Cannon was seventy-four, and 
Gallinger a great-grandfather; but they were all 
as lively as young crickets. A suffragist discussed 
hotly the meeting of the night before when Taft 
had been hissed while giving the suffrage party 
a slight lecture. The French military attaché, 
Count de Chambrun, who had married a cousin, 
gave a small family dinner for the President at 
which Nicholas Longworth’s conversation with 
Mr. Taft over some Ohio political troubles proved 
most absorbing. 

Another was given for Vice-President Sherman 
and his wife at the Willard, with about a hundred 


114 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


guests. Because Mr. Sherman had been on the 
Indian Committee, the center of the table rep- 
resented a miniature plain with Indians and 
tepees. I sat next to the Secretary of Agriculture 
and learned a lot about farming. After dinner 
the men joined the ladies, and I talked with 
Postmaster-General Hitchcock, Attorney-General 
Wickersham, and Secretary of State Knox. They 
declared L. could have anything he wanted as 
a diplomatic post, but all politicians are such 
frauds that I refused to believe anything that 
I did not see in black and white. 

The Cabinet dinner at the White House con- 
sisted of about thirty people. Mrs. Taft was un- 
able to come down, but her youngest sister, Mrs. 
Laughlin, a very pretty and charming woman, 
took her place. The company consisted of the 
Cabinet and a few extra people like ourselves. 
Mr. Andrew Carnegie, went in with me and 
held forth upon his disapproval of football. I had 
a little talk with the President, and then, when 
the men had gone off to smoke and we were 
left in the big yellow and white ballroom, Mrs. 
Laughlin asked me to go with her and speak to 
each lady in turn. 


ee 


ENTER MR. TAFT 115 


Another time Mrs. Taft asked us to dine and 
chaperon her young house party at the theater. 
Their two big colored men took our coats when 
we arrived and ushered us into the Red Room, 
where a cozy fire was blazing. In a few minutes 
down came several young girls and boys, fol- 
lowed by their host and hostess. Dinner was an- 
nounced, the President offered me his arm, and 
we marched into the dining-room; L. took in 
Mrs. Taft. 

The President was genial and delightful, and 
we talked and capped stories about Unitarians, 
for both of us belong to that denomination, and 
I had a charming time. Later he took us to see the 
portrait that Sorolla was painting of him, which 
L. and I both thought very strong. Then the 
young people went with us to the theater, ac- 
companied by Captain Butt, the White House 
aide, who was drowned on the Titanic. After the 
play they all came back to our house for supper 
and we opened the kitchen and made a Welsh 
rarebit and cooked eggs. 

The kitchen is near the music room, and its 
white-tiled walls are hung with shining coppers. 
When we have a party there we all put on 


116 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


aprons and begin by taking down the pans and 
walking round in a procession banging them and 
singing. Once when we were right in the midst of 
one of these lively frolics a bell rang and a White 
House aide appeared with the information that 
the President was outside in a motor and would 
like to come in. So L. and I went to the door, 
aprons and all, to receive him; he gave me his 
arm and walked straight out into the kitchen, 
where everybody set to work to make special 
dishes for him while he kept us in gales of laugh- 
ter with his funny anecdotes. I wonder who ever 
had a President in her kitchen before? 

A diplomatic reception at the White House was 
very like the others I had been to there, except 
that no line formed in the big ballroom, as had 
been done in Roosevelt’s day, and you talked with 
any one you pleased. An amusing incident oc- 
curred when L. was taken for Mr. Wilkie, the 
Chief of the Secret Service. Later in the evening 
the Chief came up and introduced himself and 
the two men were really amazingly alike; he said 
he had been taken for L. many times. They ex- 
changed photographs, and when the pictures 
came out in the papers a few days afterwards even 


ENTER MR. TAFT 117 


people who knew both the originals could not tell 
the difference between them. 

At this reception, for some reason or other, the 
ministers were not supposed to go into the same 
room with the ambassadors and it caused a bit 
of discussion. The Spanish Minister grew quite 
irritated. He was the man who later stayed in 
Brussels throughout the war, looking after the 
interests of many legations besides his own. His 
career is especially remarkable because of the fact 
that he has been from birth an incurable cripple; 
our disabled soldiers would find his career worth 
studying. 

Among others present were the Haitian Minis- 
ter and his wife, both as black as teakwood and 
she wore a lovely low-necked blue satin gown. 
They were really the only unusual guests, how- 
ever. Times had changed since the days when one 
could see at a presidential reception ‘‘rowdies, 
cab-drivers, belles, beaux, diplomats like the new 
discovered fossil, half golden lizard, half crested 
bird; last, but not least, a troop of Red Indians 
in war paint, with their best necklaces of bears’ 
claws, come to honor the great father.” 

Although political entertainments predominate, 


118 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


still other kinds are to be found in Washington. 
I went to a literary tea one afternoon and met 
some clever people who quoted extensively and 
made little bon-mots. They generally began a 
conversation with, ‘‘I am Maria Jones Smith > 
Brown. Have you read my book?” As a rule I 
had n’t, and kept wondering why it was that most 
authors have four names, but later we exchanged 
books with each other and had a delightful time, 
though the music played continuously and my 
head buzzed. 

Washington is always holding congresses and 
conventions, and these are sometimes combined 
with banquets and plays. The medical conven- 
tion at the New Willard was one of these. The 
doctors gave a play one year, much on the order 
of the Gridiron Club. A novel diversion was 
arranged, I heard, though I can’t vouch for the 
story. The stage, a vari-colored and honey- 
combed affair, was supposed to represent the 
stomach of a member of the fraternity. When the 
curtain went up, Gastric Juice as host, dressed 
in green, welcomed first of all several lively 
characters representing cocktails, who slid down 
a ladder one after the other making some snappy 


ENTER MR. TAFT 119 


remarks while they danced about to gay music, 
kicking up a bit of a disturbance. They were fol- 
lowed by a slippery and gliding fellow, imper- 
sonating Soup; then Mr. Fish appeared, and 
after him portly old Roast Beef, who nearly 
broke the ladder as he came down heavily, one 
rung at a time. Thereupon entered a few frisky 
bottles of Champagne, and soon after the arrival 
of a curly green Salad, ill-feeling set in: disagree- 
ments were impending, and trouble was already 
under way by the time that Pink Ice-Cream, ac- 
companied by a whole circle of little Frosted 
Cakes, tried to take possession. The other guests 
immediately combined against the new-comers, 
and the altercation became a fight. Gastric Juice, 
already worn out with trying to reconcile his 
obstreperous company, revolted, and to riotous 
music drove all the viands in rapid succession up 
the ladder and out as they had come, and fell 
flat upon the floor as the curtain came down amid 
cheers from the audience. 

In several parlors during this convention 
something much more serious was going on, and 
you could pass from one room to another and 
learn about a new ailment in each. In the first 


120 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


a doctor was describing, with the aid of lantern 
slides, the brain in different conditions; but 
it was pitch dark, and the slides looked exactly 
alike to me, so we did not stay long. Passing 
through to another room we found some one hold- 
ing forth on consumption, and sat down at last 
in a third, where the subject was cancer. I wish 
I could remember the long, unpronounceable 
names they used. As to cancer— at the end of 
the discussion they seemed still at sea in regard 
both to its cause and its cure. 

A woman’s patriotic society was also holding 
a congress that spring in hotel headquarters, and 
they had a terrific battle, because either by 
intention or mistake the name of a candidate 
had been left off the ballot. After the morning 
meeting one of the women—small, fat, and 
energetic, with the dignity of a drum major — 
flounced about followed by a troop of support- 
ers, tapping the ladies energetically with her fan 
and ordering them about. “‘I am Mrs. Dash of 
Dashville,”’ she announced; ‘‘I own all the news- 
papers in my home town and most of the real 
estate. I put Congressman Blank in Congress.” 
Later, when the convention was proceeding more 


ENTER MR. TAFT 121 


to her taste, she quieted down and became quite 
calm and happy. 

Vice-President Fairbanks enjoyed telling the 
story of Mrs. Fairbanks in the chair at one of 
these conventions. He trained her in Parliamen- 
tary tactics for several weeks. One thing he 
stressed was the importance, in announcing the 
result of a vote, to say, ‘‘The ayes seem to have 
it,”” and await a challenge before sealing the ver- 
dict. Then, if no one asked for a roll-call or show 
of hands, to follow with the customary announce- 
ment, ‘‘The ayes have it.’”’ When Mrs. Fairbanks 
was confronted with a decision, he said she al- 
ways put the cart before the horse by announc- 
ing, ‘‘The ayes have it’’; and then, after a pause, 
modifying it by the precautionary announcement, 
“The ayes seem to have it.” 

I also had the pleasure of being present at a 
meeting of another society of that type. In this 
one Southern ladies predominated, and they were 
all more ladylike than businesslike. The presi- 
dent, a charming woman, kept peace and order 
and controlled her temper — which at times must 
have been difficult. The member whose guest I 
was belonged on many committees and was evi- 


122 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


dently quite important. She rustled her papers 
constantly and explained so many things audi- 
bly that I was afraid the others would complain. 
But not at all. She was the one who got up and 
declared that there was so much noise she could 
not hear what the speaker was saying! 

After the meeting she introduced some of the 
ladies to me, and generally got them pretty well 
mixed. ‘This is one of the vice-presidents,” she 
said. ‘‘ Not at all, Mrs. Smith, I’m the secretary,” 
the lady corrected her. Undeterred, Mrs. Smith 
continued blandly, ‘‘This is a member from 
Maryland.” ‘‘I’m sorry, but I come from Louisi- 
ana,’”’ whispered ‘the second victim. “That lady 
is from Virginia, and she is descended from one 
of the presidents,’’ remarked Mrs. Smith. “ Ken- 
tucky, my dear—and no presidents, though 
Pocahontas was my ancestor,”’ replied the lady. 

That winter we went to the opening of the Pan- 
American Building, which is very beautiful both 
inside and out. President Taft made an extremely 
good speech as well as did Secretary Root. The 
Honorable John Barrett, who had had charge of 
the proceedings, thundered out his words in a 
most impressive manner. A South American Min- 


ENTER MR. TAFT 123 


ister also spoke, and he may have been very bril- 
liant for all I know, but he was difficult to under- 
stand, for he put the wrong accent on some sylla- 
ble of every word. 

One day the President’s daughter Helen mo- 
tored over to the navy yard with us. She was seven- 
teen at that time, a nice, intelligent girl without 
any frills but very popular, nevertheless, standing 
high in her class at Bryn Mawr, where she has 
since been made dean — the youngest dean of 
women in America, and nowis at the head of 
that institution as acting-president. 

At the yard, Captain Niblack, now Admiral, 
_and since in command of the Mediterranean fleet 
during the Great War, received us on board the 
old Hartford, then a training ship, but once the 
flagship on which Farragut, lashed to the rigging, 
directed operations when the Federal fieet ran 
past the Confederate batteries at New Orleans. 
I was especially interested in her, because my 
father made his last cruise in her on the Pacific. 

Not long after we had a small cotillion for Miss 
Taft, and before it, amused ourselves arranging 
the favors in the ballroom, among which were 
diverting little toys, presidential Billy Possums 


124 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


that you could stick your fingers into and make 
the paws move very realistically, as well as night 
lamps, and tall gilt poles with tinseled stars. About 
a hundred and fifty young people attended. As 
midnight approached, the lights were turned off 
and the electric stars and the tiny gleaming lamps 
made quite a fairy scene. 

Robert Taft was a fine, manly fellow, of excep- 
tional scholarship — very intellectual, as indeed 
are all this family. When we went to New Ha- 
ven for the Harvard-Yale baseball game, we 
made a call on him in his quarters three flights 
up. In the hall outside of his door was a box with 
some bottles and an inscription in big letters, 
““YVale’s Water Wagon.” His room was much like 
other students’ rooms. It looked out on a green 
square, had a lounge and some easy-chairs; his 
mother’s picture stood on a small table, and a 
couple of society emblems adorned the mantel. 

Going out once more, we found a bright, gay 
scene, graduates sauntering about the yard in 
fancy costume with pretty girls looking their very 
best. Young Taft lunched with us, and then our 
party set out for the baseball grounds, getting there 
quite early. The ticket-taker at the main entrance 


so 


REAR-ADMIRAL WILLIAM SHEFFIELD COMMANDER (NOW REAR-ADMIRAL) 
COWLES ALBERT P. NIBLACK 


ENTER MR. TAFT 125 


remarked, ‘‘Your seats are at the end of no- 
_ where,’’ but we were glad of it for they proved to 
be at the end of the field, where the different 
classes marched in. First came ’84, wearing long 
gray beards; then ’89, who had refused to put on 
comic attire, declaring they were too old and 
dignified; L.’s brother-in-law, Philip McMillan, 
headed the procession of ’95, with the biggest 
and noisiest band of all; the members of that 
class were dressed in blue and khaki. One class 
wore Pierrot costumes; another came as gon- 
doliers in blue and white carrying oars; the little 
Dutch boys were wildly applauded, but the pirates 
were the best of all, in purple and gold with ear- 
rings, necklaces, and knives. They disported them- 
selves everywhere over the place, and all the 
bands played at once, and a medley of different 
songs came from various parts of the field. 

At last the baseball nines appeared and the 
game started, going on very evenly until the fifth 
or sixth inning; then Yale made one home run 
after another, and Harvard got rattled and made 
only one run against Yale’s four, which we con- 
sidered very sad. But our Yale brother rejoiced. 


CHAPTER VI 
Sundry Visitings and Visitations 


THE weather became first springlike and then 
summery, and then a little too summery. Wash- 
ington had grown very warm when we packed 
up and went off to Winterture, New Jersey, to 
visit Senator Dupont. His place seemed to me 
one of the most beautiful in America. To be sure, 
it had no view to speak of, but the trees were 
old and large, and the walks and drives through 
the estate lovely. The dogwood trees were laden 
with flowers, pink as well as white, like drifting 
snow in a sunset. The Italian garden, with its 
fountain, was small, but exquisitely laid out, and 
the combination of flowers really unusual. 

Lots of interesting people were there, not the 
least striking of whom was our host, very dis- 
tinguished-looking and showing in his bearing 
the traditions of his French ancestry. Mr. Win- 
throp, then Secretary of the Navy, and Judge and 
Mrs. Davis, were present; the Judge was the man 
whom everybody had urged to run on the Dem- 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS = 127 


ocratic ticket for the presidency a few years be- 
fore. A foreign naval attaché turned up and spent 
a profitable Sunday telling naughty stories to all 
the old maids. 

Mr. John Barrett, who had done most creditable 
work in behalf of the South American republics, 
took me canoeing on the Brandywine. He had 
never been in a canoe before, and you would have 
laughed to see us zigzagging down the stream. We 
had to walk home, and got lost, and so now I 
know all about the time when he was Minister to 
Siam. 

Reluctantly we had to bring our delightful visit 
to an end and continue our journey to Brookline, 
where guests were expected. It was pleasant to be 
back once more in our cozy home, filled with big 
bluebells and tall snapdragons, and to be greeted 
with a ‘‘Halloa” by the cross macaw as she 
spread her beautiful blue and yellow wings, and 
by Fluff and Jap, who barked at each other and 
wagged their little white tails for us. 

One of our most celebrated guests at that time 
was Ambassador Bernstorff. He knew the Anglo- 
Saxons well, having lived in England and being 
married to an American, and was much liked so- 


128 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


cially. Although I always felt that in spite of his 
agreeable manners he was insincere, yet I did like 
him, and can’t help hoping that he disliked the 
disgraceful duty he was doing for his Fatherland, 
and the treachery against the country where he 
had so many friends. I am thankful to say that 
while with us he never asked to see or to meet any 
one who could possibly have been a fellow con- 
spirator, nor to be taken to any places of special 
significance. 

A diverting occurrence of that summer was a 
day’s entertainment which we planned for a club 
of West End boys, and which turned out to be a 
day’s entertainment for us. Nothing failed to 
captivate them from the moment they crossed the 
threshold. The smaller children were amused at 
the leaden images of Chinese genii, so different 
from the fairies of our Western fancy. One, whose 
name was Li Tieh Kuai, possessed a gourd con- 
taining magical medicines that would cure every 
kind of illness except the wound on his own leg, 
which he was never able to remedy. Another of 
the magicians held a sword, another an emerald, 
a fife, and so on. The children were quite thrilled 
to hear that the genii could cross any sea simply 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS — 129 


by putting their treasures beneath their feet and 
walking over the water. 

The older boys were delighted with some of our 
Philippine trophies — head-axes, bolos, and a 
kriss or two, which we had obtained on a trip 
among the head-hunters of Luzon; and with a 
wooden dancing hat carved in an absurd frog 
design, the totem of a Siwash Indian in Alaska. 
They roamed about, taking in everything, and 
asking innumerable questions. 

A youngster of ten was moved to write the fol- 
lowing description of his day with us, which came 
out in a paper not long afterwards: 

“Was we out to Larz Anderson’s swell joint to- 
day? I should say we was. Why, we was the guests 
and had all them servants standing on their 
heads for us. 

“Yep, it had all other days skun forty ways. 
Why, there has been so much to see and do that 
I’ve been dizzy with it all day. What did we do 
first? Well, our three clubs — Good Fellowship, 
Good Friendship, and Excelsior — all met at the 
West End House at half past nine and loafed 
around there an ‘hour while the slow ones woke 
up and drifted in, and then we took the car for 


130 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Jamaica Plain. We walked up to the house from 
Center Street, although Mr. and Mrs. Anderson 
wanted to send carriages and buzz wagons for us, 
but our superintendent, Mitch. Freeman, thought 
that was asking too much and so we walked, al- 
though I would have ridden all right if I had been 
super. 

‘‘A man met us at the barn with a lot of bats 
and balls and gave ’m to us and said we could play 
in a great big field they had chopped the grass off 
special for us. After we had lined out a few, a 
great big French auto came round and we all had 
rides in that, and then they let us ride some swell 
horses. We got to passing the balls round again 
pretty soon, and then some one said we’d got to 
go to dinner. They did n’t have to say it twice, 
you bet, ’cause we was awful hungry, specially 
me, I guess. 

“And you oughter of seen that feed. Chicken 
and tongue and everything that you pipe in the 
windows of swell lunch joints, and ice-cream more 
than I ever see before. Just like Heinz’s pickles, 
they was so many kinds. 

“‘ After everybody had eaten all they could, and 
Willie Freeman had been rubbed for the stomach 


-VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 131, 


ache, Mrs. Anderson said, ‘Let’s go to the gar- 
dens.’ We went kinder slow ’cause nobody felt as 
if he could walk fast so soon after that dinner, 
and went up places all covered with roses, and 
a guy who went with us pointed out lots of 
spots in the city we could see from the hill. The 
gardens was fine, all right, but I liked the bowl- 
ing game they showed us on the grass pretty good. 
You had these big balls to roll at another ball, 
and everybody pitched in and done it. Nick 
Mazur won, ’cause he hit the other ball the most 
times, but I bet I could beat him at it again. 

“We all went into the house again, and there was 
one of them fellers that make fake noises and 
make you believe it is something what it ain’t. He 
made noises like a horn, and a trombone, and saw- 
ing wood, and a dog barking, and piles of other 
things, and they sounded just like the real article, 
and Jimmy Downey pretty near yelled when the 
feller made a noise what he said was a laughing 
hyena under Jimmy’s chair. 

““We looked round the house all we wanted, and 
there were men with brass buttons on standing 
everywhere. Private cops, I guess. They waited 
on us at dinner. One of ’em was named Cork, 


132 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


"cause I heard Mrs. Anderson keep calling him 
that. It was getting pretty late in the afternoon 
and we all wanted another game of ball before 
we went, so we went down in the field and stayed 
the rest of the time. 

“Mrs. Anderson came down with us and 
watched us all the while. When we went she told 
us to come to the barn and she gave us each a 
bouquet of flowers picked from the Italian gar- 
dens, and a plant in a pot, too. 

“We all stood up and cheered for her and Mr. 
Anderson, who was away, and the superintendent 
of the grounds, and the stable men who used us so 
white, and the boys who led the horses we rode, 
and our super and his assistants, and a lot of other 
people. Then Mitch. shook hands with Mrs. An- 
derson and said, ‘In behalf of my boys I want to 
thank you for the delightful time you have given 
them,’ and his assistants shook hands, too, and 
said the same thing, and we all marched away to 
the cars. Yep, it was the finest day ever!” 

““Weld”’ garden, as I have said, is on a hilltop 
overlooking the city and the sea, and at dif- 
ferent times — usually when the crimson rambler 
roses are in bloom and overrun the balustrades — 


— 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS — 133 


we have thrown it open to the public for purposes 
of charity. Once a Persian pageant was given on 
the place, arranged by Mr. Joseph Lindon Smith, 
when Orientals on Arabian horses roamed across 
the hill, while groups in gay turbans and huge 
trousers stopped and posed among the big wil- 
lows that surround the little pond down by the 
amphitheater. Another time he gave a fairy play 
on rafts and boats on the water, which reflected 
all the color and movement of the actors, the 
audience watching the performance from the 
pink Italian bridge. Miss Charlotte Porter also 
arranged a most enchanting scene on the beach 
by the pond. Among huge pink and white shells, 
under soft gray moss trailing from the branches, 
dryads and water nymphs sang and danced to 
far-away strange music that was wafted on the 
wind and seemed to sigh through the trees. 

I shall never forget an incident that occurred 
the afternoon when this last play was having 
its dress rehearsal. It had been a peculiarly diffi- 
cult day, for several members of a Japanese mis- 
sion had arrived for luncheon, and as L. was in 
town, I had to entertain them alone, which was 
not easy because they spoke very little English. 


134 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Afterwards, when we went out into the Italian 
garden, L. appeared on the scene with some 
Chinese gentlemen whom he had met in the city 
and brought out for tea. At that time relations 
between the Japanese and Chinese were even 
more strained than usual; my husband and I ex- 
changed appalled glances as we realized the em- 
barrassing situation. 

But we immediately forgot that in something 
still worse, for up from the water garden at the 
foot of the hill came trooping a host of nymphs 
and dryads, clad in scanty and diaphanous robes, 
with bare arms and legs and flying hair. What on 
earth would our dignified guests from the Far 
East think of that? To tell the truth, I never 
knew exactly what were their sensations, but one 
thing is certain— they all became so much 
interested in the girls that they forgot their 
international differences and were very nice and 
polite to each other and everybody else! 

June came warm and bright that year, and we 
went on Roxana down to New London for the 
Harvard-Yale races, anchoring upstream by the 
flags that marked the finish. The Thames was 
clear sapphire between the high green banks, 


DANCER IN MISS PORTER’S PLAY AT WELD, 1916 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS — 135 


There were magnificent big black yachts and 
white ones, houseboats and sailing craft, and even 
small canoes. The excitement over the ’Varsity 
race was intense— the cheering on shore could 
. be plainly heard. The observation train had left, 
the crew had started, the people along the bank 
began to run, and the boats to whistle. Harvard 
was ahead — no, impossible to tell — yes, it really 
was Harvard! And so on, until through the glasses 
it was decided that Harvard positively had the 
lead; then, could she hold it? Yes, she did, and 
on she came, and finished, the winner by six 
lengths. After it was all over the Harvard crew 
pluckily rowed with more or less spirit to their 
quarters and then some of them jumped into the 
water for a swim. Six races won by Harvard in 
two days — never had such a thing been known 
before! 

As the great race ended, there came a deafening 
blast of toots and whistles and sirens— sounds 
that later in Paris were to be a familiar part of the 
night hours, as warnings of approaching air raids. 
The rush of boats to get their passengers ashore 
was bewildering — tugs turning this way and that 
and sometimes colliding, the buzz of engines, the 


136 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


splash of water, the waving of flags, and cheerful 
greetings from one craft to another. Far off, in the 
distance, like two great crawling serpents on 
either side of the river, crept the observation 
trains, crowded with cheering people. 

Later, in the silence of the night beneath the 
moon, with the bright colored lights shining from 
the yachts, we could still hear the shouts of ‘‘ Rah, 
rah, rah, Harvard!”’ 

From New London we started the next day on 
Roxana for Newport, steaming along the bare 
sandy coast past Watch Hill with its many cot- 
tages, leaving on our port a gray and wave- 
washed wreck perched upon a reef, to tell its tale 
of disaster. A torpedo boat destroyer hove to on 
the starboard; we exchanged friendly greetings 
with the lightship keeper, and a yacht flitting by 
hailed us to ask if we had seen a lost sailor in a 
small boat anywhere on our trip. Tugs puffed along 
drawing coal barges which splashed heavily amid 
circling and squabbling seagulls. Roxana too 
danced and rocked, and we held on while the ink- 
stand slipped off and cavorted across the cabin 
and the Victrola jumped solidly to the floor. After 
rounding Point Judith with gay Narragansett 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS — 137 


Pier in the distance, the cliffs of Newport loomed 
up, the spray dashing against them, the bell buoys 
ringing and moaning. We entered the familiar 
harbor of Newport just as the sun, a ball of fire, 
hid behind the dark houses on the torpedo sta- 
tion, while black clouds gathered over the town 
and lightning zigzagged through the sky. 

After a brief stay in Newport, we steamed back 
through the Sound to New York and cruised 
slowly up the harbor, past the big ocean liners, 
their steerage crowded to the very gunwales with 
dark-faced and hright-kerchiefed immigrants, 
looking hopefully up to where the Statue of Lib- 
erty lifted her torch on high. 

While in New York I had the good luck to be of 
a party that lunched at Ellis Island with the Com- 
missioner of Immigration. Every detail was of 
such vital significance that if I had my choice I 
should rather be Commissioner of Immigration 
than President of the United States! 

We were admitted to the private office where 
he sat at his desk with his old-maid clerk oppo- 
site. With his firm mouth and the kindly twinkle in 
his blue eyes he looked just the man for the place. 
He explained that the cases which came before 


138 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


him had been through two or three sieves already 
and the court had decided that the people must 
be returned to their countries, but they were mak- 
ing one final appeal to him. 

“‘T use my best judgment, but of course I must 
make mistakes sometimes. There are several rea- 
sons for keeping immigrants out — if they are 
mentally or physically disabled, or old and likely 
to become state charges, or, of course, children 
under sixteen who have no friends; then, too, 
women who come here without relatives are often 
returned.” 

At this point the interpreter ushered in a miser- 
able stunted Polish Jew. The Commissioner 
looked over his papers. ‘‘ You say you have been 
in America before; when did you first come?”’ 

The Jew hesitated, evidently frightened. The 
interpreter repeated the question in the man’s na- 
tive tongue, and at last he answered, “Five years 
ago.”’ 

“How long did you remain here?’”’ 

‘“Two years.” 

“You were here two years, and yet you can’t 
speak English?” 

‘“‘A leetle,’’ the man muttered. 


a 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 139 


“Where did you work?” 

“New York.” 

“What street?”’ 

The Jew looked bewildered, but finally an- 
swered, “Bleecker Street.” 

The Commissioner said to us, aside, ‘‘They 
often lie; this man has probably never been in 
New York.” Turning to him again he asked, 
‘‘Name some other streets in New York.” 

The Jew became pretty nervous by this time, 
but he did succeed in remembering several. 

“That will do. I believe he’s telling the truth, 
after all. He may have been all right five years 
ago when they let him in, but the doctor’s papers 
say he is in very poor physical condition now, and 
he certainly looks a miserable specimen. He goes 
back. Send in the next.” 

Entered an Italian family — father, mother, 
and eight children. A few questions, and their 
case had been decided. 

“It’s no use bothering with them. They have 
no friends here. The father and mother are both 
broken down in health, they have only twenty- 
four dollars between them, and there are eight 
children, all under sixteen years of age. Ship them 


140 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


back. It is time to stop such people — the steam- 
ship agents are so tricky, and they send such poor 
creatures. I am returning six per cent this month, 
to give the agents a good lesson and let them 
know I am cleaning up this place. By the way, 
I’ve already caught two or three officials stealing 
from these poor, ignorant people.” 

The next appeal was interesting, showing up as 
it did the frauds which steamship agents would 
perpetrate whenever they got a chance. The 
immigrant was a German, and the court had 
thought the case an agents’ trick. Turning to the 
man he asked in German, ‘“‘Who gave you the 
money to come over?” 

“It was my own; I saved it,’”’ the man an- 
swered. 

“Have you friends here?”’ 

“‘Children.”’ 

“Going to them?” 

The man did n’t answer. 

“Don’t you understand? You’re German, 
are n’t you? ’”’ 

The immigrant nodded. ‘To a friend first.” 

“Ts it an old friend of yours you plan to go to? 
What’s his name?” 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS — 141 


“Yes, old friend — name written on paper.” 
He tried to get it out of his pocket, but the Com- 
missioner interrupted. 

“Do you mean to say you don’t know your old 
friend’s name? Who gave you that address?’ he 
demanded sternly; “‘where did you get it?”’ 

The man faltered, ‘‘Got it in Europe.” 

‘*Bremen?”’ 

“Yes.” 

“Who gave it to you?” 

The German, staring stupidly at him, refused 
to answer. 

“It was a ship’s agent,” accused the Commis- 
sioner: ‘‘Was his name Louis Strauss?”’ 

The immigrant admitted that it was; and it 
eventually came out that he had neither friend 
nor children in New York, and that the agent had 
put him up to the whole thing. The Commissioner 
said he was tired of this agent business, and in- 
structed his clerk to make a note of the case. 

“T suppose you think I’m hard on them,” 
he went on; “of course they are pretty well 
frightened by the time they reach me — it is a 
long ordeal for them. At first they are so happy to 
reach shore after the trip, all huddled together in 


142 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the hold of the steamer, that the land seems very 
pleasant. They think it is a new and wonderful 
country where they are soon going to live in pal- 
aces and dress like kings. Their sacks of house- 
hold things rest lightly on their shoulders as they 
walk ashore, laughing and chattering gayly. But 
when they disembark, they are driven like cattle 
into pens, and families are sometimes divided — 
that is unfortunate, but necessary — and doctors 
turn their eye-lids inside out, and ask the most 
personal questions. It is hard for them, but we 
have to get at things. Criminals are difficult to 
detect — often, even if they are suspected, we 
can’t get evidence enough to detain them; in that 
case they are watched by detectives, and they 
can be shipped back if they are caught within 
three years.” j 

I made another bit of social service investiga- 
tion, when, returning to Boston some time after 
this, a friend and I visited the Tombs on Beacon 
Hill where women under suspicion are detained 
overnight. The cells are small, dark, smelling 
rankly of disinfectant, and quite bare except for 
a couch. So many of the women who are shut 
up in them are intoxicated that nothing, except 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 143 


what is easily cleaned, can be allowed. There was 
only one inmate that afternoon, young and 
fairly good-looking, though in a more or less in- 
toxicated condition, who was said to have been 
there three times before. The attendants, a ma- 
tron, her assistant, and a bookkeeper, took a hu- 
mane interest in their charge, and talked kindly to 
her as they wrote down her record. Indeed, they 
stood up for their prisoners as if they had been 
naughty children of their own whom they loved. 
I do not believe in pampering prisoners but cer- 
tainly better accommodations are greatly needed 
with larger and more airy cells and with im- 
proved sanitary conditions. 

From there we went to another old building, 
the Charles Street Jail. Here the prisoners await 
trial. The deputy sheriff said that in its day it had 
been well constructed and well planned. Never- 
theless, he pointed out several things that need 
alteration because of changing conditions. The 
prison is surrounded by a wall; the office is at 
the entrance gate, but it is too small for a recep- 
tion-room, and visitors are obliged to wait in the 
large yard, even in the rain. Prisoners as well are 
brought through this yard and up a flight of stairs 


144 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


into the jail itself, a circular building with much 
glass and iron bars. 

Inside I saw tier upon tier of barred cells with 
iron floors and steps. The whole place was clean 
and airy — a great improvement over the Tombs 
— and the cells contained nicely made beds. The 
kitchen was neat and the food good. In the past 
only stews were given to the prisoners, but the 
sheriff had had baking arrangements put in, so 
that a variety of food could be served to the in- 
mates. 

In the jail itself there are absolutely no sani- 
tary arrangements, nor is there any infirmary, so 
if the prisoners are ill or badly wounded, they have 
to be taken to the City Hospital, though light 
cases can be treated in their cells by a nurse. This 
situation is being remedied, for part of the sher- 
iff’s house, which is connected with the jail, is now 
being built over to accommodate nursing wards. 

When we entered the main hall we saw scrub- 
bing it two nice-looking boys in prison garb, who 
the sheriff said were brothers, and both in for 
manslaughter. They were apparently allowed a 
certain freedom, but in the murderer’s row, which 
we next visited, were at least twelve men, locked 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 145 


in cells — in some cases two in a cell. I asked 
why, and was told that they were lonely and had 
wished to be put in with some one. In answer to 
another inquiry, we were told that they might be 
spoken to, and stopping before two occupants, a 
sweet and devout lady who was with us remarked, 
“Poor souls — caged like animals!’’ and then 
asked if the prisoners had a Bible, and reminded 
them gently about religion. At this, one of the 
men, a powerful, great creature, who looked like 
a butcher and had red hair and a shining gold 
tooth, laughed and winked at me. It was all I 
could do to keep my face straight. 

At another cell I lingered because the prisoner 
appeared a mere boy, and asked what had brought 
him there. He answered, ‘‘I am in here because 
I was with some folks who stole a motor, and 
when the policeman tried to arrest us, one of the 
men shot and killed him.”’ Then he added indig- 
nantly, ‘“‘I did n’t do the shooting, and they all 
know I did n’t, so I’m not afraid at all but what 
Ill get off.” 

We were next taken to see a prisoner who had 
formerly been a dentist, and because he volun- 
teered to do the dentistry for the jail, he had a 


146 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


cell and an office all to himself. His story was 
that he had been in love with a lady of fortune, 
but she thought he had not been faithful to her, 
and in her anger had accused him of taking much 
of her money. 

Since I had visited the place especially to see 
the conditions under which the women lived, the 
sheriff said they might gather round the long 
table where they had their meals. There might 
have been thirty or more, and I was surprised, 
as I talked to them, to find that the majority 
were English and Irish, middle-aged, and most 
of them in for drunkenness. One woman was 
crying. ‘“‘How long have you been here?” I 
asked. ‘‘Just came drunk again,’’ she sobbed. 
Several prisoners said that they had sons in the 
army. Indeed, I am sorry to say that in the men’s 
quarters several of the prisoners were in uniform. 
Of the women there were only three who could 
be called young, and one of these had dyed hair 
and admitted cheerfully that she was ‘‘gay,’’ and 
had been in jail more than once. A second had 
been with the boy in the motor party when the 
policeman had been killed. A third looked as if 
she were of a better class, and for some reason 


VISITINGS AND VISITATIONS 147 


was not in prison garb. I was astonished to 
have her say to me that she had read my last 
book, and felt very badly to meet me under such 
conditions for the first time. Later I was told that 
she had been a college girl and had stolen from 
her classmates. 

The sweet little lady with us suggested prayers 
and hymns and some patriotic songs, and the 
prisoners joined in enthusiastically. As we dis- 
tributed the books and candy and said good-bye, 
all the women thanked us and said that they had 
enjoyed having us come. We hoped we had, at 
least, given them a few cheerful moments. 

What a jumble the spring and summer had been 
—a mixture of fétes, and new faces, masque, 
pageant and game, and that thought-provoking 
visit to Ellis Island, the new families and the 
old, the Americans and the about-to-be Ameri- 
canized, and last of all, the pathetic failures of 
our land, who for their own safety and that of 
the world, were living out their empty lives be- 
hind iron bars. One wondered what it all meant. 


CHAPTER VII 
Cruising and Campaigning 

WE had the good fortune to be invited to join 
the presidential party for the trip to New York 
at the time of a big naval review. Motoring 
down to the North Shore in the moonlight, at 
Singing Beach, Manchester-by-the-Sea, we found 
Dr. Grayson with a boat from the Mayflower. 
Eventually the President and Mrs. Taft ap- 
peared. There was still a delay, however, in 
getting on board, because the Filipino valet had 
not come with the President’s clothes; when he 
finally did make his appearance and Mr. Taft 
asked him what the trouble was, he blandly an- 
swered, ‘‘Horse very slow!” 

President-and Mrs. Taft had two large state- 
rooms with accommodations nearby for their 
valet and maid. Some smaller cabins usually 
reserved for guests, a good-sized dining-room, 
and a library made up the rest of the ship’s 
quarters. 

Our first destination was Naushon Island, the 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING | 149 


home of Governor Forbes of the Philippines. 
Off Cape Cod an impenetrable fog closed in upon 
us, and the captain slowed down and finally 
stopped, sending a wireless to the Governor about 
the situation, adding that the yacht would come 
as soon as possible. We were expected for lunch- 
eon, but did not arrive till about four that after- 
noon. The President, Mrs. Laughlin, Major 
Rhoades, and Lieutenant Little played bridge 
most of the day, while the rest of us sat about 
and talked, while fog-horns boomed near and far 
and the bell buoys tolled. 

Governor Forbes came out in a launch and 
boarded the Mayflower, and then all went 
ashore together, going through the dangerous 
“Hole” to our landing-place. Belonging to the 
Forbes family are several islands, which look 
bleak on the shore-line, but in the interior have 
colossal oaks and beeches, at that season just 
turning superb scarlet and yellow. Naushon, the 
largest of the group, seemed like a mysterious 
ghost island in the lifting haze as we drove 
through the sunset glow among the golden red 
woods until the twilight crept upon us. 

Next morning some of us put on riding-clothes; 


150 . PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


they gave me a nice Western pony, and we 
galloped off to the great oak which was to be 
named ‘‘Taft.”” The Forbes clan from different 
parts of the island gathered about the tree, and 
Mr. Taft’s name was cut deeply in the bark. I ex- 
pected at least poetry, or a speech, or a bottle of 
champagne broken over the huge trunk — some 
slight ceremonial — but nothing happened. We 
rode back as we had come, through the blue and 
gold haze. The twilight mystery of the night be- 
fore had vanished, and the Mayflower sailed away 
with a blazing sun on the sparkling sea. 

On awaking the next day we found ourselves 
entering New York Harbor. The band struck up 
a gay tune, the crew — all spick and span — stood 
at attention, and the Secretary of the Navy, Mr. 
Meyer, came on board with a great deal of cere- 
mony and was received by the President. The 
Governor of New York, some ribboned diplo- 
mats, and uniformed officials followed, until 
about forty, I should think, had boarded the 
yacht. Then the Mayflower steamed up the Hud- 
son while the huge drab leviathans on either side 
fired the presidential salute of twenty-one guns. 
The roar of the cannon was deafening. When 


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CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 151 


the Mayflower had reached the end of the line 
we all had luncheon and then steamed back 
again. There were one hundred and thirty ships 
in the fleet, — among them my godchild, the 
Perkins, — and of these thirty-two were large 
battleships, all of whose keels had been laid 
during Republican administrations. 

That evening the President and some of the 
party went ashore early for the big navy dinner 
that was to come off at the Astor. The rest of 
us — Mrs. Taft, Mr. and Mrs. Hammond, Dr. 
Strong, L. and I — dined on the yacht and later 
went to the hotel. There Miss Helen Taft joined 
us, and all the women sat in a box overlooking a 
long raised table shaped like a ship’s deck, with 
a painting of sea and clouds for a background. 
In the center sat the President, surrounded by 
Mayor Gaynor, Mr. Meyer, Admiral Osterhaus, 
in command of the fleet, Secretary Hitchcock, 
Attorney-General Wickersham, and a number of 
others. A line of boxes was filled with ladies and 
the floor itself was covered with small tables for 
the officers. Mr. Taft made an admirable speech; 
three or four others also spoke, and there were 
songs and an orchestra. In response to the cheer- 


152 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ing for Mrs. Taft, she stood up in the box and 
bowed very sweetly. 

It was while we were at this dinner that the 
terrible news reached us that ex-President Roose- 
velt had been shot. The fear of another assassina- 
tion was in the air, and not the least exciting part 
of the evening was the drive back in the Presi- 
dent’s car, with police on motor-cycles ahead and 
behind, and secret service men hanging on to 
each side of the motor. We whirled at breakneck 
speed through the streets, while the people scat- 
tered to right and left, some cheering and waving. 
Although pretty tired when we reached the May- 
flower, we sat about and talked it all over till the 
President fell asleep in his chair. 

The next day L. and I said good-bye, joined 
Roxana, and continued up the Hudson to land 
at Catskill for a ninety-mile drive across the roll- 
ing lowlands, up through the splendid Clove with 
its steep road and cascading river and thickly 
studded trees. Coming to the high plateau we 
turned, passing by the Kaaterskill Hotel on its 
bare eminence, and went on to make a brief stop 
at the Old Mountain House. At the end of a 
corridor we came out suddenly on that rim of 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING _ 153 


the palisade with the sublime view below and 
beyond us, where five States can be seen stretched 
out like a blue-green map with the silver Hudson 
winding across it. Back again into the mountains 
we motored and stopped by a diminutive stream, 
where we had a basket luncheon, and then returned 
another way down the sides of the Windham 
Mountain, coasting for miles with a vast pano- 
rama stretching to the Green Mountains and the 
Berkshires. Down, down, down we went until, 
late in the afternoon, we reached the Roxana at 
Catskill. 

Cruising slowly southward we came into the 
Pass between Storm King and the other great 
heights that rise so magnificently against the hori- 
zon at this part of the Hudson and make West 
Point one of the most wonderfully situated places 
in the world. We tied up to the dock and drove 
to headquarters, where the superintendent, an old 
friend, gave us an orderly to act as cicerone and 
show us the various buildings. These rise impos- 
ingly from the river up the sides of the palisades, 
all designed in great castle style, with an immense 
riding-hall and administrative building, and domi- 
nated at the highest point by the chapel, really 


154 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


solemn and fine in its effect. The cadets, who were 
under canvas, formed and marched to their din- 
ner, and we watched new plebes at their drill, 
and then drove out to the upland cemetery, over- 
looking the country, to visit Uncle Robert Ander- 
son’s tomb and memorial fountain. 

Late in the afternoon Roxana continued down 
the splendid reaches of the Hudson till she 
dropped anchor for the night, and then next 
morning went on as far as Ardsley, where we took 
the train to New York and then to Washington. 

One day the President sent word through Gen- 
eral Edwards asking if L. would like a diplomatic 
post, which seemed suitable as L. had previously 
passed through all the lower grades as second 
Secretary of Legation and Embassy, then first sec- 
retary and chargé d’affaires, having been for over 
seven years in the service. A little later the Presi- 
dent said, when my husband was calling on him, 
that he had hoped to send him to Turkey, as 
Minister, but it hadn’t worked out. (Thank 
Heaven it had n’t!) 

More time passed, and the President again sent 
for him. Mr. Taft was very cordial and jovial and 
inquired whether L. thought Belgium would prove 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 155 


interesting. He said that he had always felt a 
strong attachment for us, almost as if we were 
members of his family, and that he appreciated 
our loyalty. Then he asked if L. was acquainted 
with any of the Senators on the Foreign Relations 
Committee, and as he did know quite a number, 
after a little further talk — there were all sorts of 
people crowding outside and inside to see the 
President — L. left to go to the Capitol. The 
chairman of the committee, Senator Cullom, to 
whom he presented himself, was very kind, and 
told L. that he would see that everything went 
through all right. Lodge — who still looked the 
scholar even though he was in his shirt-sleeves 
that afternoon — also promised to take care of 
the nomination. Root said nice things, too, 
and Burton, another member of the committee, 
appeared to coincide; in fact, they all seemed to 
approve warmly of his appointment as Minister 
to Belgium. 

So eventually it came about that we went to 
Brussels to live. When I again returned to Amer- 
ica on a visit, President Taft was nearing the end 
of his term. 

The Republican Convention of 1912 was to be 


156 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


held shortly in Chicago, so I went out there, with 
every hope of a second term for him. 

This time I stayed with friends at the Blackstone 
Hotel and cabled my husband in Brussels all the 
news I could gather. Rumors were flying about. 
The Taft people felt they had more than enough 
votes, but others declared that both sides lacked 
twenty of the requisite number. It was thought 
there might be two conventions carried on in the 
same hall, with the Roosevelt supporters bolting. 

Tuesday morning, June 18, we went to the 
Coliseum for the first opening session. There was 
no marching nor singing, but a sort of grim silence. 
Nobody seemed to know exactly what would hap- 
pen. Senator Borah who, they said, wished to be 
Vice-President, made a good opening speech, and 
matters began to warm up. 

Flynn, of Pennsylvania, looked out actively 
for Roosevelt’s interests, but Hadley, the young 
Governor from Missouri, proved his most success- 
ful supporter. The temporary chairman was a 
clever little Jew, Victor Rosewater, the son of a 
newspaper man. Watson, of Indiana, tall and 
gaunt, making one somehow think of Lincoln, 
directed affairs. 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 157 


Various surprises occurred. Hadley, not get- 
ting a chairman that suited his side, — Roosevelt 
did not want Root under any consideration, — 
switched suddenly to McGovern of Wisconsin. 
Then La Follette refused to have anything to do 
with either Taft or Roosevelt! The voting was 
very close, but Root won as permanent chairman 
after a stormy battle, and he made a brilliant 
' speech as he took the chair. Notwithstanding all 
this, a good many felt at this juncture, not only 
that Roosevelt might get the nomination, but 
also his third term. We were rather discouraged, 
‘but kept on singing Taft’s campaign song: 

“ Bill Taft is the man to engineer his plan, 
Valiant in word and in deed; 
While he is at the helm no storm can overwhelm, 
For he ’ll stand by the Ship in its need. 
Shout then for Taft, he is on the safest craft, 
Working for the right and for you, 
‘Bull Moose’ may blow, Woodrow Wilson he may row, 
But ’t is Billy puts the ‘Old Ship’ through.” 

Wild rumors were circulated that there might 
be bloodshed, and probably there would be a 
deadlock. The thousands of people were orderly 
enough, Wednesday, though perhaps the four 
hundred police and sergeants-at-arms who were 


158 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


remorselessly on duty had something to do with 
it. Every one was given fair play, and the Roose- 
velt people had a long rope in which they became 
entangled and presently hanged themselves. But 
meanwhile the crowd was wildly enthusiastic — 
whenever T. R.’s name was mentioned there en- 
sued a pandemonium of cheers, whistles, beating 
of drums, clanging of cymbals, and noisy roaring. 
A girl—as somebody said, the undertaker’s 
daughter — waved his portrait from the plat- 
form. One wild enthusiast declared he was “‘the 
greatest living American of this age or any age!” 
As George Ade remarked, “‘The oratory came 
down in Niagaras!”’ 

I had a fight with a man from Ohio who sat be- 
hind me; he ended by patting me, saying benig- 
nantly that he intended now to vote for suffrage, 
and then he subsided. There was a suffragist 
among the delegates, by the way, and it happened 
that her name also was Isabel. 

Thursday I was not able to attend the conven- 
tion. But echoes of the excitement, now at a high 
pitch, reached me. A band carrying T. R.’s pic- 
ture aloft played a funeral dirge through the 
streets. It was said that New York would not 


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CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 159 


stand for Hughes, but some hoped it would, as 
there was so little enthusiasm for Taft. 

Against all this turbulence was set the candi- 
dacy of President Taft, with his quiet patience, 
his hard work, his able and conscientious record, 
his deliberate speech, and thoughtful argument. 
It was logic versus noise, but the brains were on 
the Taft side and Roosevelt was outgeneraled. In 
spite of the popular clamor for T. R., the last re- 
ports we heard that night were that Taft would 
be nominated without a doubt, and that, as a 
forlorn hope, Roosevelt would start a new party. 

.People felt, with the splitting of the Republi- 
can Party, the chances were that the Democrats 
would win in November. Bryan and Underwood 
were talked of for President, and Clark and Wil- 
son; but who could tell from day to day what 
might supervene? 

The atmosphere of lawlessness in the conven- 
tion was quite beyond one’s comprehension unless 
one happened to be there. The steam roller, as 
they called it, did grab two delegates from Cali- 
fornia who by right might have gone to Roosevelt, 
and there seemed to be a question over the State 
of Washington, but the others, as far as I could 


160 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


make out, those that T. R. dubbed “liar” and 
‘thief’? — Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Texas 
— were fairly entitled to their seats. Beveridge 
maintained, however, that Indiana was not very 
fair. Some friends from Michigan said that their 
State was absolutely solid for Taft, and they 
could not see how Roosevelt had the face to bring 
it into the contest. The contest certainly was 
close and exciting — and how the T. R. followers 
did yell! At the same time groans and toots in the 
audience made it amusing. I shall always be glad 
I was there. 

Friday night great confusion reigned in the 
Roosevelt camp and so many rumors flew about 
that one did n’t know what to think or say or do. 
His followers would not bolt with Roosevelt, and 
so they stayed in and were beaten. By this time 
it was a sure thing for Taft, and Saturday morn- 
ing the decisive word came that he had been re- 
nominated for the Presidency. 

After Chicago I went to Washington. Our house 
was closed, but the caretaker opened the den, 
with its little balcony bedroom, so I stayed there 
for several days. The first thing I did was to go 
to the War Department to find General Edwards, 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 161 


who had just returned from Belgium. After giving 
me all the news from Brussels, he took me to the 
President’s office in the White House wing. We 
were ushered almost immediately through the 
corridors filled with people waiting their turn, 
into the room where the President sat talking to 
some one. As soon as the man had left I delivered 
a letter from L. and we talked a few minutes, after 
which Mr. Taft invited me to luncheon. 

While in Washington I became for the first time 
actively interested in politics. Miss Mabel Board- 
man asked me to send out circulars hoping to get 
contributions from women for the Republican 
campaign fund; I sent out thousands before I got 
through, and distributed I don’t know how many 
other campaign leaflets besides. 

Next I was put upon the Advisory Board of the 
Women’s Republican Committee and asked to or- 
ganize rallies and speak in Massachusetts, which 
I did. 

During the campaign which followed his nomi- 
nation, Mr. Taft himself seemed indifferent to 
the results, looking forward to election day as only 
a man could who had done his work conscien- 
tiously and well. He showed no resentment over 


162 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the bitter shafts of political warfare that fell at his 
feet, and he told an interviewer on one occasion 
that summer, ‘The great dream of my life is to 
have my country lead in the permanent estab- 
lishment of world peace [this was in 1912] and 
...in an intelligent and high-minded citizen- 
ship.” 

While the campaign progressed, the signs were 
not favorable. As a Springfield paper put it, “In 
the matter of straightforward, frank dealing with 
the public, the President stands conspicuous, and 
his weakness in this connection, perhaps, lies in the 
failure to make a strong dramatic appeal to the 
general public to support him in an emergency.” 

Hope mingled with apprehension as election 
day drew near. L. and I were to sail the day after, 
so I bade my mother good-bye and took the train 
for New York where I was to join my husband, 
who had returned to America from Brussels for a 
few weeks. We went to the Manhattan Hotel to 
dine with Mr. Hilles, chairman of the Republican 
Committee. Mrs. Taft came in soon after, with 
her sister and several other relatives and friends 
of the President. The election news engaged us 
far more than the dinner, of course, for the wires 


CRUISING AND CAMPAIGNING 163 


were busy and the returns kept coming in during 
the evening. 

All the news pointed one way. State after State 
went to Mr. Wilson, even those that for years 
had been stanchly Republican. It was impossible 
to shut our eyes to the fact that the thing we had 
fondly believed could not happen had really come 
to pass. Because of the wretched split in the Re- 
publican Party, we were confronted by the pros- 
pect of a Democratic administration. It seemed 
incredible that Roosevelt should have been re- 
sponsible for the defeat of the G. O. P. which had 
made him, and brought about the election of a 
minority President whose tendencies and policies 
were so different from previous administrations. 
There were many who never forgave him. It was 
sad news for all of us, and we could not be a hilari- 
ous party, though we tried to joke a little and keep 
the ball rolling. After dinner a few more people 
arrived and joined our little company. The discus- 
sions that went on about the political situation 
were certainly most illuminating. Through it all 
the disheartening returns kept pouring in, and 
several times Mrs. Taft was called up by the 
President. 


164 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Finally, Mrs. Taft and a few of us ventured out. 
into the street to see what was going on there, the 
wife of the President, with her usual unassuming 
simplicity, passing through the throngs quite un- 
perceived. People were still tooting horns, but we 
were too late for the crowds before the newspaper 
boards. Mrs. Laughlin seemed to think her sister 
needed cheering up, so we went into a restaurant 
and had some supper. It was long past midnight 
when we got back to our rooms at the hotel, and 
ended our evening; it had been so exciting in an- 
ticipation, and so disappointing in reality. The im- 
possible had happened — the Democratic Party 
had swept the country, with thirty-five States to 
its credit. 

Speaker Champ Clark’s lifetime ambition also 
had been reduced to ashes a little while before in 
the Baltimore Convention, where, though having 
had more than a majority of delegates at first, 
nevertheless he had not been able to wrest the 
prize from Mr. Wilson. After election day had 
passed, the Speaker called upon Mr. Taft to ex- 
change greetings and condolences. Winking at 
the President, Mr. Clark said, ‘‘Well, we are 
handsomer than he is anyhow.” . 


CHAPTER VIII 
Divers Democrats 


I oNcE heard Mr. Taft say that a President’s 
peak of power usually came after he had been in 
- office about eighteen months. Toward the end of 
his administration he is likely to be torn limb 
from limb, politically speaking. Looking back over 
the history of the country you will find this true 
enough, but Mr. Wilson has been an exception. 
Not one high point would be found, but several, 
and some very low ones as well, if Wilson’s pop- 
ularity was traced like a weather chart or a pa- 
tient’s in a hospital. Although terribly criticized 
for unpreparedness during his first term, never- 
theless his highest peak of power was not passed 
until well into his second term — indeed, it will 
only be seen in later years at just what period 
it was passed. His hold upon Congress through- 
out the war has been amazing. 

Two years of his administration had passed 
when the cataclysm of Europe came. Another 
year went by before the Lusitania was sunk, and 


166 PRESIDENTS AND PIES’ 


the diplomatic notes began to multiply. In fact 
it began to be generally assumed abroad that our 
chief part in the conflict would take the form of 
rhetorical advices. An American girl was seated 
at a desk in a hotel parlor in Cape Town, South 
Africa, when a British officer came up behind her 
and remarked, “Ah, writing notes? I understand 
you Americans are very fond of writing notes.” 

As feeling rose higher and protests began to 
pour in, the President, who had announced in the 
beginning that he intended to be accessible regu- 
larly to newspaper men, closed his doors and be- 
came more and more difficult to interview. 

Nevertheless Mr. Wilson was said to be affabil- 
ity itself, but that after an interview had been 
secured with him one realized that he had done 
most of the talking, leaving the important thing 
that the visitor had on the tip of his tongue to say, 
still unuttered when the cordial presidential hand- 
shake passed him swiftly onward and out. There 
was a story current about David Belasco and a 
group of other theatrical magnates who went to 
Washington to protest the heatless Mondays and 
closed theaters. 

““We’re to go to the White House,” Mr. Bel- 


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DIVERS DEMOCRATS 167 


asco confided to a Congressman, “‘this afternoon 
for five minutes!”’ 

“Great Heavens!’’ cried the Congressman. 
“What are you going to do with the other four?” 

When President Wilson came to Washington, 
he refused the honorary membership usually 
offered the incoming Executive by the leading 
Country Club on the published grounds that he 
did not feel he would have time for golf, owing 
to the pressure of his duties. But almost ever 
since, rather to the surprise of Washington, he 
has passed more time on the links than any 
of his predecessors. He had a regular programme 
for each day. It began with golf in the morning, 
followed by four hours of work in his office, and 
concerts or driving in the afternoon. Almost every 
night he was to be seen at the theater; as there 
are very few first-class theaters in Washington, 
he often had to go to the same play more than 
once, but he seemed particularly fond of vaude- 
ville, for night after night you would see him at 
Keith’s. 

After Mr. Wilson arrived it began to be under- 
stood that social life was rather frowned on as 
undemocratic. This attitude amused old Washing- 


168 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


tonians greatly, for they remembered that the 
first and most extravagant entertaining ever 
known here, with the introduction of unlimited 
terrapin and champagne, had taken place during 
a Democratic administration, in the time of the 
Whitneys under President Cleveland. But there 
were none of the well-ordered and dignified func- 
tions that had taken place in the handsome homes 
of the Cabinet and the other officials of the pre- 
ceding Republican administrations. Instead the 
state receptions and dinners were given in hotel 
parlors and dining-rooms; and for important mis- 
sions and visiting envoys, private houses had to 
be borrowed. So there has been much less social 
life at the White House during this Democratic 
régime than usual. Nevertheless the Wilsons 
have furnished the Capital some exciting mo- 
ments. The romances and marriages of the Presi- 
dent’s two daughters and his own remarriage 
have given society plenty to talk about. 

There is little I can say in regard to the various 
men and women who came into prominence 
through the Wilson terms. We were away much 
of the time, and besides, in a Democratic admin- 
istration the Republicans are more or less out- 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 169 


siders. Of course, at one time or another, socially 
or in war work, I met most of them and came to 
know a few very well indeed. But on the whole I 
must confess that my judgments are necessarily 
superficial. 

Colonel House was easily the most prominent 
figure of — and yet not of and lately one hears 
not at all of —the administration. Those who 
know him best declare his judgment to be good, 
but somewhat socialistic; and the secret of his in- 
fluence seemed to be that the people trusted him 
because he wanted nothing for himself. However, 
there are differing opinions even about him, for 
while I was in France a very intelligent French- 
man told me that the Colonel either had not un- 
derstood their point of view or else he had mis- 
reported matters to the President. This was after 
one of his earlier visits to Paris. 

Several times I sat beside Secretary Daniels and 
found him a very genial dinner companion. A good 
mixer — with people, but not of cocktails — he 
appeared the newspaper man and politician. At 
first the public criticized him, but people felt 
that he had done very much better than any 
one expected — although he was nicknamed “In- 


170 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


bad the Sailor.”” His attack on the Navy League 
seemed — to put it mildly — unfortunate, and did 
no one any harm except himself. His remarks that 
the members were anarchists made one laugh, as 
I knew most of them and they were patriotic men 
and women. Navy men declared that the navy 
in the war did well in spite of him. It looks, since 
Admiral Sims’s letter in regard to war medals, 
as though Mr. Daniels deserved the title of 
“Tnbad:7; 

Secretary of Agriculture Houston is big and 
serious-minded. For years before coming to Wash- 
ington he was in college work, first as profes- 
sor and then as administrator, so that he knew 
his subject in its broader phases. One heard less 
of him than of some of the others, perhaps, but I 
believe he makes an excellent executive. 

Secretary of the Interior Lane is the only man 
in the Cabinet kept over from the Republican ad- 
ministration; some say that he had been obliged 
to swallow a number of bitter pills, but neverthe- 
less he sticks to his job. Rumors also declare him 
to be more or less socialistic. At any rate, he is 
jolly and nice and very well liked. 

Secretary McAdoo was a very hard worker 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 171 


while in office. He is tall and lanky, with sharp 
features and thin lips, and keen and clever. His 
resignation caused a great deal of excitement in 
Washington — gossip had it everyway; he had 
made money; he had lost it; he was ill; he was 
getting out so that he could come back later as 
President; he had had trouble with his father-in- 
law about a railroad deal, and as to which should 
go abroad. The excuse given to the public was 
that he could not afford to remain in the position 
any longer, because he needed to make money for 
his family. Arthur Guiterman’s lines about him 
in ‘‘Life’’ are too good not to include: 


“The Who, preéminently Who, 
Ts William Gibbs, the McAdoo 
(Whom I should like to hail, but dare n’t, 
As Royal Prince and Heir Apparent). 
A Man of high Intrinsic Worth, 
The greatest Son-in-Law on Earth 
With all his burdens thence accruing, 
He’s always up and McAdooing 
From Sun to Star and Star to Sun — 
His Work is never McAdone. 
He regulates our Circumstances — 
Our Buildings, Industries, Finances 
And Railways, while the wires buzz 
To tell us what he McAdoes. 


172 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


He gave us (Heaven bless the Giver!) 
The Tubes beneath the Hudson River. 


I don’t believe he ever hid 

A single thing he McAdid. 

His name appears on Scrip and Tissue, 

On bonds of each successive issue, 

On Coupons bright and Posters rare, 

And every Pullman Bill-of-Fare. 
Postscript 


But while with sympathetic Croodlings 
I sing his varied McAdoodlings 

And write these Eulogistic Lines, 

That thankless McAdoo resigns!” 


Several of the wives of the administration 
struck me as being quite attractive. The first 
lady of the land worked for a time in our Red 
Cross canteen, where the other workers had only 
pleasant things to say about her — and that cer- 
tainly speaks well! Miss Benham, Mrs. Wilson’s 
secretary, who also worked with us, and was 
very much liked, accompanied her abroad. The 
colored maid whom she also took to Europe was 
of the real old black mammy type. When the 
President and Mrs. Wilson went to make a visit 
at Windsor and ate from silver plates, she told the 
servants that in America they ate from gold 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 173 


plates. But in Italy — no one knows exactly how 
it happened — the woman was given a suite of 
rooms in the Grand Hotel and accorded the 
honors of a lady-in-waiting! 

Miss Bones, a relative of the President who 
lived for several years in the White House, was 
greatly admired. Mrs. Lane, Mrs. Houston, and 
Mrs. Hoover were especially popular socially. 
Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Burleson were more the 
club-woman type and made very good speeches. 

Looking over the list of political people, one 
notices more than ever before men of Jewish ex- 
traction. Faint rumors of a great Hebraic world 
movement headed by some very prominent Jews 
have been heard, but the movement is still kept 
very quiet. Each President seems to have given 
preference to one faction —for some political 
reason, perhaps. Roosevelt favored the negroes. 
Taft, a Unitarian, favored the Catholics. Wilson, 
a true-blue Presbyterian, goes in for Jews. 

From the middle of Wilson’s first administra- 
tion until his second one, the war began to be 
hotly argued, and feeling grew steadily in inten- 
sity. No one knows — perhaps no one will ever 
know — how many tens of thousands of tele- 


174 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


grams, letters, and messages bombarded the 
White House, demanding.that we enter the war. 
The East was in a furore; the Middle West awaited 
events with mingled feelings; the Far West was 
indifferent. There was even a campaign slogan, 
““Thank God for Wilson, he kept us out of war!” 
Would it win or lose him votes? Nobody knew. 

Eager to see who would be the standard-bearer 
in the coming campaign, we decided to go once 
more to Chicago. For some time previous to the 
convention I had felt convinced that Justice 
Hughes would be nominated, but I saw, even 
before starting for Chicago, a growing enthusiasm 
in New York and Boston for Roosevelt, and as we 
traveled west with admiring T. R. Progressives, I 
began to open my eyes and ears. At Chicago, 
where the papers were practically all for him, I 
was frankly surprised at his large following. But 
very soon afterwards I was told that the Teddy 
bubble had burst. 

Groups of people wandering about in the lobby 
of the Blackstone discussed the situation amica- 
bly, no one seeming to care very much for any one 
individual — they simply wanted the best man 
to win. Many hoped that Root had a chance; he 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 175 


was considered the great statesman of America, be- 
cause of his masterly handling of questions with 
European countries and because of his South 
American policy and the fine code of laws drafted 
by him for the Philippines. A quartette sang Bur- 
ton’s praises in the hotels, and the Sherman men 
marched the streets. The headquarters of the 
various delegations at the Congress Hotel were 
crowded with the usual motley group of politi- 
cians, office seekers, and plain citizens, while 
speeches echoed through the entrance hall. 

For the first time women were much in evidence 
in Chicago. They wanted the Republican platform 
to declare in their favor, and it was a question 
whether the plank should be a Federal or a State 
matter. Both parties, and also some of the “ An- 
tis,’’ appeared and spoke before the Resolutions 
Committee at Convention Hall. To see thousands 
of women marching ‘“‘sheroically,’’ as some one 
said, in a pouring rain and howling gale, gave one 
a strange feeling, and it had its effect. 

The convention was called to order Wednesday 
by Mr. Charles D. Hilles, chairman of the Repub- 
lican National Committee, to whom the credit for 
much of its success belonged. Senator Harding, 


176 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the permanent chairman, performed his duties 
admirably. 

The sections filled with delegates on the floor, 
as seen in the distance from the gallery, with 
standards telling the names of the States repre- 
sented, suggested Grange Fair exhibits, neatly 
arranged, and I felt as if they should read: “Oats 
from Ohio,” or ‘Apples from Oregon.” 

On the same day the Progressive convention 
opened with great excitement, which continued 
by fits and starts throughout the week. While the 
proceedings of the Republicans may have seemed 
tame in comparison with the Bull Moose activi- 
ties, yet this same moderation was due to the 
high character of the delegates, who realized the 
tremendous seriousness of their problem. 

Among the speeches that remain in my memory 
for one reason or another I recall that of Governor 
Willis, of Ohio, which he delivered like a splendid, 
bellowing bull. The vocabulary of a latter-day 
Dogberry from Wisconsin proved highly amusing; 
a minority report, enriched by mixed metaphors, 
read by one of the Resolutions Committee made 
one weep with laughter. While the speakers went 
on denouncing the Democratic Party for its weak 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 177 


foreign policy in Europe and Mexico, I could 
not help watching the changing expressions on the 
face of Mr. Bryan, who sat just below the plat- 
form among the reporters. I was much amused 
when Senator Depew looked at him and remarked, 
“When the enemy arrives, you will be there to 
meet him with a million men in Ford cars!” 

Followers of Burton marched through the aisles 
with a live baby elephant, led by a miniature 
Uncle Sam and bearing on its back a little girl 
dressed as Columbia. The supporters of Sherman 
and Fairbanks waved flags and howled like school- 
boys. 

Conference committees were appointed in an 
attempt to unite the Progressives and Republi- 
cans, but they could not come to an understand- 
ing. No compromise candidate was offered by the 
Progressives; they wanted Teddy, so Roosevelt’s 
name was sent in to the Republican convention. 
At the mention of T. R. the galleries rocked, and 
a woman who looked as if she taught Swedish 
movements waved flags. Another stepped from 
her seat into a prominent position and threw her 
hat “into the ring.’’ There were rumors that 
Roosevelt was on his way to Chicago, but it 


178 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


proved that he had only sent a message, which 
was read at the convention. He suggested Senator 
Lodge as a compromise candidate, but under any 
circumstances it was too late. 

Balloting began, and the third ballot a sweep 
for Hughes developed into the finest and most 
remarkable nomination I have ever heard of, 
for Mr. Hughes never lifted a finger or author- 
ized any one to work for him. I believed him to 
be exactly the kind of man we needed — level- 
headed and just, with a fine record, and that 
whatever situation arose he would have met it 
wisely. . 

One who had attended several conventions and 
had Iearned to look for the strategy in every little 
situation which came up, saw in the nomination 
of Mr. Fairbanks for Vice-President a clever coup. 
A man with a most loyal following, his prepara- 
tion for further public service was thorough, and 
his State, Indiana, always pivotal, was specially 
important that year from the fact that it would 
elect two United States Senators. 

The convention avoided the rocks; on the 
whole, though not dramatic, it was intelligent, 
constructive, and patriotic. 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 179 


Once the campaign had been fairly launched, 
the next important event proved to be the Hughes 
notification ceremony, for which a friend offered 
us good seats in Carnegie Hall. I had never heard 
of such an occasion and it puzzled me, until I 
learned that this was quite an unusual event — in 
fact, the first of its kind. Other would-be Presi- 
dents in the past had received the committee’s 
notification informally and made their speeches 
of acceptance in their own houses, or on their 
front lawns or piazzas, with only a comparatively 
few people present. As the situation in 1916 was 
so complicated, with the Progressives somewhat 
divided and ex-President Roosevelt “‘coming out’”’ 
for Hughes, my friend said the Justice wished this 
Occasion to be made an important event. 

Just as we reached the hall, great cheering be- 
gan. I looked at the platform to see if Mr. Hughes 
had arrived, but could not find him; I glanced at 
the entrance, but he was not there, either. Then I 
saw that the cause of the excitement was Mr. 
Roosevelt, who had entered a box in the balcony. 
Some of the Progressives cried, “‘We want 
Teddy!” and one shouted, ‘‘ Why is n’t Theodore 
on the platform?’’ A gentleman told me that he 


180 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


understood the Colonel had been invited up there, 
but preferred to sit in a box. 

“How does it happen on a Hughes night that 
there is so much clapping for T. R.?”’ I asked; 
“how many tickets did the Bull Moose men 
get?”’ 

“They asked for half the house,” he replied, 
“and they were given it.” 

At last the Committee on Notification appeared 
on the stage, preceding Mr. Hughes, for whom 
there arose prolonged hurrahs. He made a very 
fine appearance, spoke well, and what he said went 
straight to the point. There was much enthusi- 
asm, and we returned home satisfied that Hughes 
would make a great campaign, and lead the G.O.P. 
to victory. 

Again it happened that our hopes were not to 
be realized. For the second time Woodrow Wilson 
carried the country, though this time by the bar- 
est possible margin, so that for days after the 
election we were left in doubt as to which candi- 
date actually had been elected. 

Inauguration Day fell on Sunday in 1917, so, 
although President Wilson took the oath of office 
(in private, for the first time in the history of 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 181 


the United States) at the Capitol, the procession 
did not take place till next day, and the Inaugural 
Ball was omitted altogether. 

The changes that creep in every four years are 
especially noticeable. We had had the good for- 
tune to see President Roosevelt take the oath of 
office in the Capitol, to hear him deliver his speech 
outside, and to view the procession from a window 
on Pennsylvania Avenue. Four years later, while 
the parade halted before the White House, we 
lunched with President Taft and later watched it 
pass from his pavilion. This time — it was a clear, 
cold, windy day — we had seats opposite the same 
pavilion and were able to see President Wilson 
reviewing the procession. 

In the old days the outgoing Executives rode 
to and from the Capitol with the incoming one 
in a carriage drawn by two horses, with a colored 
coachman and footman on the box. This year, 
since Wilson was his own predecessor, his wife 
accompanied him in the carriage. 

Curiously enough, this Democratic chief mag- 
istrate was the one to introduce a carriage with 
four horses instead of two, and with white coach- 
man and footman instead of black. As a matter of 


182 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


fact, a riding teacher at the club did the driving, 
and the leaders were borrowed for the occasion. 
But the equipage really did make a very good ap- 
pearance, and I think the innovation is excellent. 

Never before had women marched in the in- 
augural procession, but now they formed quite an 
important part of it, most of them in costume and 
representing trade unions, suffrage, and other 
organizations. 

A warlike flavor was given the affair by the 
corps of petrolettes with rifles and the four- 
wheeled motors with guns, as well as the huge 
tanks trundling along. A woman in the crowd 
near me remarked triumphantly, ‘“‘ You see we are 
prepared, after all!’’ But as a matter of fact, 
there were only eight of those tanks in existence 
— and they were all in the procession. Moreover, 
none ever reached the other side of the water. 

The parade was a mixture of the serious and the 
ridiculous. The police came first and looked well, 
as always, on their handsome horses. The regular 
troops just back from the Border, the West Point 
and Annapolis boys, all marched finely, as also 
did the students of the Culver Military Academy. 
Distinguished-looking Governor McCall, of Mas- 


DIVERS DEMOCRATS 183 


sachusetts, with his guard of naval cadets in gay 
uniforms, and Governor Whitman, of New York, 
with his mounted aides and with Squadron A fol- 
lowing, made a magnificent appearance. No less 
fine were the dignified Indian chiefs on horse- 
back, superb in their regalia. The little band of 
G.A.R. veterans, too, earned their share of the 
applause. 

The Governor of Mississippi, who had swept 
the State twice, and his staff of thirty-eight ma- 
jors rode in carriages. One of the majors having 
married a distant cousin of L.’s, we made it an 
excuse for inviting them and their wives to have 
tea with us the day before the parade. When I 
offered this cousin a horse for her husband to 
ride in the procession, she refused it with the 
simple explanation— ‘“‘The Major weighs two 
hundred and ninety pounds!”’ 

It was surprising, though, to see how few gov- 
ernors came to Washington for this occasion — I 
had supposed there would be many from the 
Southern States, at least, on account of President 
Wilson; but Maryland, Virginia, and Mississippi 
were the only ones represented. Some of the 
marching of the troops was especially bad. Hired 


184 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


for the various personages to ride were work 
horses, some fat and frowsy, and others so thin 
and decrepit that they looked fit only for a bull- 
fight. 

The colored drum major, with his fuzzy hat 
and twirling stick, was greeted with hilarious ap- 
plause. Tammany Hall was out in full force, along 
with endless political clubs, some of whose mem- 
bers wore derby hats, some top hats, some no hats 
at all. Some waved flags and smoked cigarettes 
at the same time. The various kinds of bows and 
salutes given to the President as the different 
organizations marched by the reviewing stand 
afforded us many good laughs. 

Great precautions had been taken for the Presi- 
dent’s safety, and the bomb predicted by the 
fortune-tellers was not thrown. So everything 
ended well. 


CHAPTER IX 
Allied Missions 


In April of 1917 this was the situation in which 
the Allies found themselves: Great Britain, still 
threatened with starvation by the submarine 
menace, which she had not been able to overcome; 
Russia, in the throes of revolution; Italy, cor- 
rupted by propaganda and lacking in essential 
materials, weakened to the point where she 
could not withstand any great offensive without 
help from outside; France, at the end of her 
reserves. And yet the crisis had not been reached, 
and the end was not in sight. 

Nothing showed more plainly the importance 
which the Allies attached to the entrance of Amer- 
ica into the war than the personnel of the missions 
which they sent over here as soon as we declared 
ourselves co-belligerents with them against Ger- 
many. These missions were sent to us, both as a 
compliment to the American people, and also to 
give us the benefit of their experience, so that 
we might be able to avoid their blunders and 


186 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


delays and arrange for the closest possible codp- 
eration. 

It soon became clear that the Allies especially 
wanted to impress on our people the fact that 
more than money, or even than food, was the ne- 
cessity for men. More soldiers were needed in the 
trenches, and immediately. It was to convince us 
of this that the other countries sent us their ablest 
statesmen. 

Great Britain sent the first mission to arrive, 
headed by the Right Honorable Arthur James 
Balfour, who, as we all know, before the war had 
been Secretary for Ireland, leader of the House of 
Commons, and Premier of the British Empire; 
after the war began he had become First Lord of 
the Admiralty in the Coalition Cabinet and For- 
eign Secretary of Great Britain. It was really he 
who fathered the Entente, for he brought about 
the alliance between England, France, Russia, 
and Japan. 

With him were military and naval experts and 
men prominent in the economic and financial 
worlds. The secret of their departure from Eng- 
land on a fast cruiser was so carefully guarded 
that no submarines interfered with the voyage. 


ALLIED MISSIONS 187 


They landed at Halifax and crossed the border at 
Vanceboro, over the bridge which Werner Horn 
had tried to blow up. As their train ran out of 
the mist onto American soil, a little company of 
farmers and workmen who had got wind of their 
arrival, gathered at the border to wave a few 
tattered flags. 

On the day that the Stars and Stripes flew for 
the first time over Parliament, the commission 
reached Washington — the 22d of April. En- 
thusiastic crowds welcomed the distinguished 
men at the station and lined the streets through 
which they passed. British flags were flying from 
all the windows, and innumerable police and de- 
tectives guarded them on their way to the house 
where they were to stop while here, that of Mr. 
Breckinridge Long, our Third Assistant Secre- 
tary of State. As they passed slowly by in their 
motors, escorted by cavalry from Fort Myer clat- 
tering along on the asphalt, the visitors bowed to 
right and left in response to the clapping and hur- 
rahs of the people. It seemed to me, as I watched 
them, that the commissioners looked well and 
cheerful, notwithstanding the terrible strain they 
must have been under during the war. 


188 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


At a reception given for the mission at the 
British Embassy, I met Mr. Balfour for the first 
time. We had quite a little chat, for my husband 
had known him in England and recalled himself, 
realizing the great man’s failing — he cannot re- 
member faces. It is said that sometimes he 
does n’t even recognize members of his own 
Cabinet. 

This trait of his came out quite amusingly at a 
dinner L. attended — an especially interesting 
occasion because both Republicans and Demo- 
crats were represented, Colonel House and 
Mr. Taft sitting side by side. For an hour Mr. Bal- 
four, who is a man of about seventy, stood before 
the fireplace and talked superbly, his head “held 
high and his words an enduring inspiration to 
those who listened. There could be no mistaking 
his power. But when it came time for the guests 
to leave, he mistook my husband for the master 
of the house and thanked him cordially for his 
hospitality! 

The French commissioners arrived only a few 
days after the British, and were entertained at the 
house of Ambassador White. They received an 
even greater ovation than the British, perhaps due 


ALLIED MISSIONS 189 


to the fact that France sent us her great popular 
idol, “‘Papa” Joffre, the hero of the Marne. His 
victory was said to be ‘‘a triumph comparable 
with Valmy and with Marathon, the one a 
victory of the spirit, the other a triumph of the 
intelligence. ... It was a victory of French ge- 
nius over German force.” 

With him was the Minister of Justice and ex- 
Premier, René Viviani— ‘‘the eloquent voice of 
France,’”’ who had, as a New York paper put it, 
“written into the French Jaws more statutes that 
are socialistic in their essence than any other of 
his comrades in the party. . . . Furthermore, con- 
trary to the doctrines of socialism, he has been an 
ardent militarist; years before the World War he 
besought preparedness. ... His career in public 
life has been . . . a vivid flash across the pages of 
his country.” 

We had the pleasure of meeting both of the 
great emissaries at the French Embassy, and also 
Count Pierre de Chambrun, a descendant of Lafa- 
yette’s who, like his brother, had married a cousin 
of my husband’s. General Joffre had thrown back 
the blue military cloak he wore, revealing his uni- 
form of navy blue tunic with many medals, and 


190 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


scarlet trousers with gold braid. Because of his 
white face and the strong, heavily built body 
which showed his peasant stock, he made a de- 
cided contrast to the dark, fiery Viviani, who was 
rather jealous, I heard it whispered, of his popular 
colleague. 

When my husband was introduced as a former 
Minister to Belgium, L. said to the Marshal, ‘‘I 
hope we may next meet in Brussels!” To which 
the old soldier replied, ‘‘ C’est probable!’’ Though 
at that time I must say it looked anything but 
probable. 

The programme for the commissions varied 
somewhat in the different cities — in Washington 
it was official and social in character, while else- 
where it was more of a popular demonstration, 
mixed with sight-seeing. First there were calls to 
be paid by the mission to the President, and the 
State Department, and addresses before Con- 
gress, and innumerable important meetings. Then 
a round of entertainments was arranged for them. 
There were no parades in the Capital, but in all 
the other large cities processions took place with 
officials, soldiers, and school-children. The visi- 
tors made speeches in parks or public buildings 


Left to right: King Albert, Marshal Joffre, a French staff officer, Mme. Joffre, 
General Rouquerol (French Military Attaché to the Belgiam Government), 
Queen Elizabeth 


Marshal Joffre and King Albert with two officers 


VISIT OF MARSHAL JOFFRE AND MME. JOFFRE TO KING 
ALBERT AND QUEEN ELIZABETH AT THEIR VILLA NEAR THE 
BELGIAN FRONT, MARCH 2t, ror 


=k 


ALLIED MISSIONS 191 


before large crowds of people all over America; 
in Washington their audiences, however, were 
chiefly official in character, and of course smaller. 
The British did not visit Boston; as that city is 
preponderantly Irish, it was thought wiser to 
leave it out of their itinerary. The French stayed 
away from Chicago because of the pro-German 
sentiment there. 

The presidential yacht Mayflower took both 
missions down the river one day to Mount Ver- 
non. As they approached the landing a bugler 
sounded taps, and the band played the ‘“‘Star- 
Spangled Banner.’’ Once ashore the party went 
directly to the tomb for the simple ceremony of 
paying their tribute to the Father of our Country. 

Mr. Balfour presented a wreath of lilies and 
oak leaves — ‘dedicated by the British mission 
to the immortal memory of George Washington, 
soldier, statesman, patriot, who would have re- 
joiced to see the country of which he was by 
birth a citizen and the country which his genius 
called into existence fighting side by side to save 
mankind from subjection toa military despotism.” 

Marshal Joffre, attended by two French sol- 
diers bearing the bronze palm, stooped under the 


192 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


low iron grating and laid the offering of France 
upon the tomb. Standing there with bowed head, 
he spoke with a quiet simplicity which was in it- 
self impressive: ‘‘In the French army all venerate 
the name and memory of Washington. I respect- 
fully salute here the great soldier and lay upon 
his tomb the palm we offer our soldiers who have 
died for their country.” 

By the end of May the French mission was once 
again in France. All along the way from Brest 
hilarious crowds greeted their returning country- 
men, and immense throngs were waiting for them 
at the Paris station. When the emissaries found 
their motor-cars halted by a mass of cheering 
people who surged through the lines of police, 
Marshal Joffre exclaimed, ‘‘Why, it is like New 
York!’’ They had certainly succeeded in arous- 
ing America to an ardent desire to be of the 
utmost service to their country. 

“‘ Help France ? Help France ? 
Who would not, thanking God for the great chance, 
Stretch out his hands and run to succor France ?”’ 

In the month of June three more missions came 
from other Allied countries — Italy, Russia, and 
Belgium — to confer with the members of the 


ALLIED MISSIONS 193 


administration and gain the assurance of our co- 
operation. They were all in Washington at the 
same time, and the programmes for their duties 
and pleasures were much the same. 

The Italian emissaries were headed by a cousin 
of the King’s, to whom and to whose colleagues 
the Leiters gave up their house. His Royal High- 
ness Ferdinand of Savoy, Prince of Udine, brought 
the President a personal letter from Victor Em- 
manuel III. But no more eloquent words of greet- 
ing had come to America from any of her allies 
than those of the soldier poet, Gabriele d’ Annun- 
zio. Written for the Italian celebration of the 
Fourth of July, the author — whose mother had 
been killed in an air raid, who had himself lost an 
eye and a hand, and given all his property to his 
country — in the ‘‘Call to Arms” appealed to us 
to share their inspiration: 


“Live, then, America, for truth is living; 
Die, for in death is immortality. 


We're on the march! How long shall we be marching? 
Until the roads of east and west are free; 

Until beneath the four winds of the world 

Freedom is possible for all mankind; 

Until we reach the end of our long journey; 


‘ 


194 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Until time brings the fullness of the years. 
A Faith in arms is marching to the future; 
Its flags are consecrated to the dawn!” 


Besides bringing Italy’s greetings to the Re- 
public, the representatives hoped also to arrange 
for supplies of raw materials and equipment for 
her soldiers. In their conferences with our offi- 
cials great stress was laid on the need of coal, 
iron and steel, of chemicals and cotton, and of 
copper, brass, and rubber for war purposes. But 
in return the Italians were eager to help us in 
every way possible, especially in giving us in- 
formation which would aid in the development 
of our airplanes. 

Since my husband had been Secretary in the 
Embassy at Rome for a number of years, we in- 
vited Prince Udine to dinner. As he was young 
and fond of dancing, in spite of the war we asked 
a few young people in to dance. When we lunched 
at the Italian Embassy, I sat next him at table. 
Although a naval officer and very charming, a 
good sort — intelligent and alertly interested in 
everything —I did not think him quite so at- 
tractive as his cousin the Duke of the Abruzzi. 

By great good fortune I got tickets to go to the 


ALLIED MISSIONS 105 


Capitol and hear the Prince, Mr. Balfour, and the 
new Russian Ambassador address Congress. As 
usual the place was crowded, and a furore of en- 
thusiasm was evinced at all the speeches. In spite 


of the fact that Prince Udine read his in broken 


English, it was surprisingly good; the Russian 
also spoke admirably, and in excellent English. 
Russia sent us by the Provisional Government 
Special Ambassador Bakhmetieff. But even at 
that time their country was going on from a 
frenzy of confusion to an utter chaos of anarchy. 
As Kerensky said, “We have tasted liberty and 
it has made us drunk.” So in spite of the Am- 
bassador’s hopeful words to Congress, assuring us 
that “Russia will not fail to be a worthy partner 
in the league of honor,” that country’s betrayal of 
the cause of the Allies was already near at hand. 
There were many stories current about this 
mission. It appears Bakhmetieff had lived in 
New York State for several years and so knew our 
language and ways. Although a Kerensky man, 
he was not as socialistic as I had imagined he 
might be. His Excellency had come to America by 
way of Siberia, and had brought a number of men 
and women with him— so many, in fact, that 


196 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


they could not all be housed by Mr. Jenning, 
who had kindly offered them his home. All the 
women and some of the men had to be sent on 
to New York. It was whispered that the feminine 
contingent wore such strange clothes and were 
such peculiar types that it was feared they would 
not make a good impression, and so only the most 
presentable men remained in Washington. 

I met the Ambassador several times at dinner, 
and should judge he was a man quite of the prole- 
tariat — not at all the sort one would pick out of 
a crowd; he had a round face and wore glasses, 
and his residence in this country had made him 
look rather more American than Russian. On the 
whole, he made a very good impression here, al- 
though his position was peculiarly difficult, con- 
ditions in Russia were changing so rapidly. No 
one knew exactly what he stood for, and I don’t 
suppose he knew himeelf. 

Among the particularly interesting dinners of 
that summer was one given at the Country Club 


by General and Mrs. Crozier on the Fourth of — 


July. I sat between the Russian Ambassador and 


Senator Chamberlain, the man who caused sucha — 


stir by his attacks on the administration. After- — 


a 


ALLIED MISSIONS 197 


wards we drove back with the British Ambas- 
sador, Spring-Rice, who had made a very clever 
speech that evening. It was the last time we were 
ever to see him. Soon after he left for England, 
but died in Canada on the way home. 

Of all the events of that summer, the reception 
given the Russian and Belgian commissions at 
the Pan-American Building stands out most un- 
forgettably in my mind. It is a delightful place 
for summer entertaining on account of its garden 
and court as well as its fine ballroom. The court is 
fascinating at all times with its palms and drip- 
ping fountain, its monkeys, and its blue and yel- 
low macaws. But at night the garden is lovely 
beyond words, with different-colored lights re- 
flected in the pool and glowing on the exquisite 
Aztec tiles in the pavilion beyond. Like a ghost 
the carven figure of the old Indian sits at the 
edge of the water in his age-long melancholy. 

The scene in the ballroom that night was bril- 
liant in the extreme with the uniforms of offi- 
cers and diplomats from all the Allied nations 
and with the jewels and beautiful dresses of the 
women. But out of doors the whole affair took on 
a new aspect; the guests no longer seemed human, 


198 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


but visitors from another world — mysterious 
spirits drifting through the changing lights, while 
the stone Indian sat unmoved among them, if 
anything less unreal than they. 

The Belgian envoys had arrived in Washington 
the 18th of June, and we saw a good deal of them 
because they lived in our house the three weeks 
that they were there. To them, and to all the 
other missions, American army and navy officers 
were appointed as aides. The head of the com- 
mission was Baron Moncheur, an old friend, who 
had been Minister in Washington at one time. 
Comte d’Ursel we were also especially glad to 
see, for we had known many members of his 
family in Brussels. Among the emissaries was 
General Leclercq, who had been in command of a 
division of Belgian cavalry — a striking figure in 
his khaki uniform. 

One member of the party must not be forgotten 
— Nellie, their little white fox terrier. She had 
been given Major Osterieth by a British officer, 
and had served in the trenches as a mascot, hav- 
ing been wounded several times. She had been 
made a great pet, and her death, which occurred 
in this country, was a real grief to them. 


ALLIED MISSIONS 199 


It was particularly pleasant to be able to ex- 
tend hospitality to this mission, for when my hus- 
band had been Minister in Brussels the Belgians 
had been very kind to us. Also we had Belgian 
connections, one of L.’s cousins having married 
there. For a time after turning over the house we 
left town, but later, being obliged to return on 
account of some work, we went to a hotel. 

Baron Moncheur was very nice in asking us to 
dinner, and as there was no lady in the commis- 
sion, he would invite me to act as hostess. The 
first time I went back, it gave me quite a start 
to see the tents pitched at the rear, and the sen- 
tries marching up and down. It was a funny feel- 
ing, too, to be a guest in your own home. 

Naturally the entertainments were largely polit- 
ical in character, and the guests were for the most 
part people whom we had known before. The Lan- 
sings, who were perhaps the most popular socially 
of any members of the administration, and Secre- 
tary and Mrs. Baker came one night. In spite of 
his being supposedly a pacifist, the Secretary of 
War showed that he had good nerve by going into 
the front-line trenches while in France. 

The Belgians made the most extended tour 


200 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


through the United States of any of the Allies. 
Before going to the other Eastern cities they went 
out to the Pacific Coast, where a plot to assassi- 
nate them was unearthed — some one had in- 
tended to throw a bomb into their automobile. In 
August they reached Boston and made speeches 
in Faneuil Hall and on the Common, and took 
part in a great parade of soldiers and sailors, 
cheered by enormous throngs of people. 

Before the summer ended another mission 
landed on our shores, this time from the Far East 
— Japan. It was headed by Viscount Ishii, who 
subsequently returned here as Ambassador. They 
were lodged in the house of Mr. Perry Belmont. 
He being a grandson of Commodore Perry, who 
had first opened Japan’s doors to the Western 
world, it was specially appropriate that he should 
now receive the commission which was to bind 
the two countries still closer together. 

At the time of their arrival in Washington, it 
seemed as if the officials here were reluctant to 
give them an opportunity to express themselves. 
It was a critical moment, and the masterly di- 
plomacy of Viscount Ishii saved the situation. 
Seizing every possible chance to make an address, 


ALLIED MISSIONS 201 


he soon disarmed suspicion and brought about a 
state of good feeling which was of exceptional im- 
portance at that juncture. His Excellency was, 
perhaps, the best man his Government could have 
sent, as he had many warm friends among the 
Americans, and with true Japanese courtesy en- 
tertained on a lavish scale. His command of Eng- 
lish was excellent, and he impressed every one 
as being level-headed and right-minded. His wife 
knew European ways, and spoke French fluently. 
They spent several days with us at “ Weld,” and 
we never had more delightful guests. 

The Viscount’s speeches were among the best 
delivered by any of our foreign visitors. In one of 
them he said: ‘‘Our message is that in this day, 
through its hours of shadow and of sunshine, your 
purpose is our purpose, your road our road, and 
your goal our goal. It is that America and Japan 
will march together, work together, fight together 
as comrades, until the end has been reached and 
the victory won in the struggle which involves 
our rights and our liberties.” 


CHAPTER X 
Pies 

ALTHOUGH there had been several small canteens 
on the Mexican Border during the year before our 
entry into the Great War, the Washington Re- 
freshment Corps was the first large emergency 
canteen to be organized by the Red Cross after 
that event. Miss Boardman invited several of us 
to come to her office in consultation and then left 
the organization in my hands. Consequently a 
meeting of women and college girls was held, at 
which thirty-six members were listed and several 
officers nominated. Later the membership in- 
creased to one hundred, and when the Alexandria 
Corps threw in its lot with ours we had half as 
many again. Besides selecting a secretary and 
treasurer, we decided upon five committees — 
commissary, cooking, recruiting, uniform, and 
intelligence. 

The Red Cross gave us army titles — colonel, 
captain, and lieutenant, and the corps was run on 
military lines. The officers, serving as chairmen, 


PIES 203 


made up an executive board and brought in 
reports for discussion and settlement. The com- 
missary department had the most problems to de- 
cide at first, for we were to be an emergency can- 
teen and so could not know just what the work 
was to be or what equipment might be needed. 
The committee in charge looked up the stores 
which would give the best prices, especially for 
coffee, sugar, condensed milk, buns, pies, bread, 
and jam — articles which, after much experi- 
menting, were found the most practical and 
economical when feeding men en masse. They 
also got prices on sausages, ham, canned _ beef, 
and peanut butter; these were all tried out, but 
discarded in favor of the earlier staples. 

Then a trailer kitchen was suggested — some- 
thing at that time quite new— in which liquids for 
twelve hundred people could be cooked at once. 
It was a giant affair, on wheels, four great caul- 
drons, each holding forty gallons, and a bin at 
the rear carrying a day’s supply of wood. A mo- 
tor truck carried the equipment and hauled the 
kitchen. Both of these together with an icebox 
were donated to the corps, and very useful gifts 
they proved themselves to be. 


204 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


As soon as the kitchen arrived we began mak- 
ing experiments. There were no paid cooks — all 
were volunteers, and the work was hard. Wood 
had to be brought, the fire made, the coffee put 
into bags, and the cauldrons filled with water. 
Then after they had been used, the great kettles 
had to be cleaned and all the tin cups and cans as 
well. For a thousand men the seemingly Brob- 
dingnagian rations of thirty-seven and a half 
pounds of coffee and the same of sugar would be 
used, together with three fourths of an entire 
case of condensed milk. A proportionate serving 
of sandwiches required one hundred and twelve 
double Pullman loaves. 

When the corps first started, the original 
thirty-six members wore a uniform of blue and 
white cotton with the red cross; the others in 
white were considered reserves to be called when 
needed. Later, however, by hard work these re- 
serves were able to earn the right to wear the 
regulation uniform and the red cross. With white 
apron and small white helmet with dark blue 
veil, the whole uniform cost a little over three 
dollars. When the weather became colder, a very 
smart navy blue winter coat lined with red and 


PIES 205 


with a white belt was added, and a turban hat; 
this, of course, cost considerably more. 

Our intelligence officer found that there was a 
score of army camps within twenty miles of 
Washington, and visited each of them to discover 
what things were needed. Then she looked up the 
places where troop trains would be likely to side- 
track, and found out whether the army officials 
and trainmen would codperate and notify us. Af- 
ter that we were all ready for action. 

Our first public appearance occurred on May 
12, 1917, when the new Red Cross Memorial 
Building was formally opened. The President re- 
viewed several different corps — surgical dress- 
ings, clerical, comfort bag, and so on—all in 
uniform, and a pretty sight they were with their 
flowing veils of different colors. Most of the 
girls had never marched in a parade before, and 
there was much dismay at first because many of 
them did not wish to do so. Fearing that the can- 
teen would make no showing at all, I sent out 
notices to the effect that all who wished to re- 
main in the organization must march unless they 
were ill or out of town. 

Getting the corps ready for the parade was 


206 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


quite amusing. First my husband and General 
Edwards gave me a little military training in the 
house, then I called the women together and 
drilled them in the back alley, and finally gave 
them a grand rehearsal in the White Lot. I 
learned to bark out orders quite professionally, 
but was mortally afraid of forgetting to give 
‘“‘eyes left’’ as we passed the President’s stand. 
The discipline was not all that could be desired 
— one girl talked a steady stream while she was 
marching, and another could not be made to 
keep step — but on the whole it went off pretty 
well. Our kitchen trailer was a unique feature 
of the parade, and was so much admired that 
later it was sent for to take part in the great 
Red Cross procession in New York. 

Hardly were we ready for service when orders 
came to go to Fort Myer and serve luncheon to 
fifteen hundred men. This gave us a fine chance 
to try out our system, which was as follows: 
When the corps was called, I notified the captain 
of the commissary department to order the 
foodstuffs; the recruiting officer, Miss Sheridan, 
‘daughter of the famous general, to telephone her 
waitresses, who made and served the sandwiches; 


A RED CROSS TRAVELING KITCHEN 


at 


PIES 207 


then the cooks, who prepared and served the 
coffee; the nurse and the secret service man who 
used to accompany us in those early days; and 
last the motor-corps, which took the members. 
All were expected to come when called, at any 
hour of the day or night, unless they had a very 
good excuse. If a member failed in her duty she 
received a black mark; after three black marks 
she was usually not summoned again. The 
method of procedure thus devised was found to 
work very well and was kept until we got our hut 
on the tracks, when regular shifts were organized. 
On the morning of the trip to Fort Myer the 
whole staff assembled at the garage, where the 
fire was started in the kitchen trailer, the coffee 
prepared, the sandwiches made, and the pies cut. 
The intelligence officer went ahead with the Red 
Cross flag and the tent to make arrangements 
for the parking of the kitchen and motors. Then 
off we started, the coffee boiling in the great 
cauldrons, the steam rising, the fire crackling all 
the way. By the time we reached Fort Myer 
everything was ready to serve. Folding tables 
were taken from the truck and set out picnic 
fashion in the place assigned us — a dirt road be- 


208 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


tween the barracks. We had barely got settled — 
it was half-past ten — when streams of reserve 
officers began lining up for breakfast; they had 
had nothing to eat since six the night before, and 
were very hungry. On their arrival at camp they 
had been hurried off for medical examinations, so 
this was their first chance to get a bite. Our food 
was certainly appreciated by the fifteen hundred 
men. The total cost of the refreshments to the 
Red Cross was only a little over a hundred dol- 
lars. I had a letter from General Scott, then in 
command of the army, complimenting us upon 
our success, so altogether we felt very well sat- 
isfied. 

Nevertheless, complications soon arose from the 
fact that while some of the army officers approved 
of canteen work at the railway stations, others 
did not. Red Cross canteens were new in America. 
Those who had been in Europe during the war, 
and knew conditions there, encouraged us. Others 
felt very definitely that women should not be 
told when troops were to pass through en route 
for overseas, as orders were just beginning to be 
kept secret. For this reason our work on the 
tracks was somewhat interfered with for a while. 


PIES 209 


But all the officers approved of our visiting the 
camps. In order that there might be no criticism, 
the soldiers were given only things that their 
chaplain asked for, such as books, postcards, 
magazines, tobacco, writing-paper, and gum. All 
the military bands about Washington were sup- 
plied through us with music contributed by music 
stores in several large cities. We made a point 
of not duplicating or interfering with the work 
of any other society, but being an emergency 
corps we were able to accomplish what some 
others were not yet ready to do. For overseas 
men we added a candy and cigarette committee 
and a comfort-bag department, so that many 
thousand soldiers and marines going to the front 
at that time were supplied. 

After the trip to Fort Myer the next call was 
to feed the Red Cross delegates who had arrived 
from all over the country to attend a meeting in 
Washington. As women are not used to military 
methods, I had my troubles. Some of the mem- 
bers objected, feeling that the canteen was meant 
for soldiers only, but since we were under mili- 
tary rules, orders from headquarters had to be 
obeyed without question. The luncheon was to 


210 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


be served at Fort Myer, and our kitchen was 
parked near General Scott’s house, on top of the 
plateau among the officers’ quarters. A whole lot 
of Red Cross “big bugs” were there, including 
ex-President Taft, Mr. mies and Mr. Eliot 
Wadsworth. 

That afternoon we started from Fort Myer 
across country and struck the road to Alexandria, 
where we were to feed six hundred artillerymen 
who were coming in by train and making camp in 
a big field about eight miles out of Washington. 
This field, between their unpacking and ours, soon 
began to look as if it were about ready for a cir- 
cus. We served the food from the motors, the 
soldiers helping. Darkness came on, but still we 
stayed and worked with only the aid of occa- 
sional lanterns. The officer in charge asked us 
to leave the kitchen there under guard till morn- 
ing, so that troop trains arriving in the night 
could have hot coffee. Of course we were glad to 
do this, and left an extra present of tobacco for 
the men. Again we had a nice letter from the 
commander. 

A most terrible occasion was the 6th of June — 
registration day. Over a thousand people manag- 


PIES 211 


ing the registration at the schoolhouses scattered 
all over the city had to be fed. Our work began 
early in the morning and ended late at night. 
Baskets were packed for each schoolhouse, with 
ham sandwiches and jelly rolls; and after they 
had been dispatched to their various destinations 
in motors, the kitchen began its tour, leaving cans 
of hot coffee. 

The long, tedious day was scarcely ended — it 
was about midnight, in fact — when the head of 
the police called up, asking whether we would 
serve coffee and sandwiches the next three days to 
the Confederate veterans who had come to Wash- 
ington for a reunion and parade. Five thousand 
of them were expected, and ten thousand had ar- 
rived. The hotels were all filled, and hundreds were 
sleeping on mattresses spread on the floor of the 
armory. So we got up before daylight to make 
more sandwiches and get ready to do what we 
could to help out. Of course most of the men were 
very aged, and some had little money. Even those 
who had been given meal tickets were so exhausted 
after the first day that the hot coffee and buns 
which we served from our tables in the street out- 
side the armory and station were a godsend. The 


212 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


appreciative old fellows stood round the motor 
kitchen and sang songs for us. But the junket was 
pretty hard for them. One man who had come all 
alone was absolutely blind. I took several who 
were ill to the Red Cross rest room. Nine of the 
old veterans died in the hospital. 

During one of the big war-time parades thou- 
sands of marines were fed at the station, an 
ambulance corps going to the front was served 
refreshments, and a lunch was given to the coast 
artillery when they were mustered into service. 
Forty thousand men arrived at Camp Mead in 
three days and we were asked to help provide 
for them. 

After that our work changed somewhat, for the 
officers came to see that a canteen was really 
needed for the troop trains. Early in September 
large numbers of soldiers began to go through 
Washington, and as the cars were side-tracked 
about a mile out from the city for an hour or 
more, we decided to put up a tent in a triangle 
between the tracks and have our motor-kitchen 
there, housing it in a neighboring garage at night. 
A member of the corps had a studio not far away 
where she allowed us to make sandwiches. This, 


PIES 213 


with the use of her telephone and kitchen, proved 
a great help in those early days. 

Our little gypsy encampment in the freight 
yard worked under difficulties, for the place was 
hard to get to, the troop trains were very uncer- 
tain, and we were anxious not to waste any food. 
Moreover, the weather was extremely warm, and 
there were few canteeners in town in August. But 
the railway officials were especially nice and help- 
ful, and we managed to meet every arrival be- 
tween six o’clock in the morning and midnight, 
and to see that the boys were given some sort 
of a welcome and a word of greeting while we 
passed the laden baskets and steaming cups. 

These efforts were more than repaid by glimpses 
of the letters the soldiers wrote home, which ap- 
peared occasionally in the papers. ‘‘Wonderful 
hot coffee and plenty of sandwiches,” wrote one. 
Another was touched by the fact that ‘‘the women 
stood at midnight in the rain and waited for us,” 
while a third declared, ‘‘Our Washington recep- 
tion was the brightest spot in the whole trip, and 
you may rest assured that we think a great deal 
of the Washington canteen.” 

This work at the tracks had hardly got well 


214 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


under way — in fact, we were still using the tent 
— when a call came for volunteers to work over- 
seas. Since few women in our corps were free to 
go, many of them being officers’ wives, I decided 
to offer my services. After consulting Mrs. Gulick, 
who had been doing excellent work, I turned the 
corps over to her, with the approval of Red Cross 
Headquarters, and left for France. So, though I 
cannot describe from actual experience the events 
of the next eight months, letters and reports kept 
me pretty well informed as to what was happen- 
ing. 

Soon after my departure a friend wrote: 

“When the boys began to come in by the thou- 
sand at the end of the week, you may guess how 
things were. Very few workers, only two cooks — 
Mrs. Gulick and Mrs. Vanderbilt — and all the 
food had to be carried over the tracks till help 
came from Camp Ordway. With a few exceptions 
everybody did good work. Poor Mrs. X. was on 
her job as usual advising uot to do things; two of 
the others fought continually; one woman was 
very rude to me, but dear Mrs. —— took me 
aside and said not to feel badly. ‘Just remember 
we are doing it for the cause,’ she said; ‘I have 


PIES 215 


been insulted by nearly every one here, but am 
going on just the same.’ 

“Yesterday there was a let-up among things 
generally. Not more than a thousand, I should 
judge. We expect this rush will continue for 
months. The other day there came a message say- 
ing Miss Boardman and Mr. Rockwell from Red 
Cross Headquarters were bringing visitors to see 
a train come in. Everything was in apple-pie 
order and the strangers seemed quite impressed. 
The only unfortunate part was that a train offi- 
cial had just come down and forbidden our going 
over the tracks, as he considered it too danger- 
ous. He promised to try and have the soldiers sent 
down for the food, but this was by no means 
the same thing, for the men liked the personal 
touch. When coffee and buns came in sight, they 
cheered vociferously and seemed to appreciate it 
because the ladies were giving it to them. Miss 
Boardman saw the point, and suggested we have 
a shack put up in a safer spot. 

“Mrs. George Vanderbilt is quite wonderful, 
so cool and collected and executive. She took her 
motor and went off shopping, bought some extra 
equipment, a table for the tent to hold the tele- 


216 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


phone, some camp chairs, a rake to rake up the 
trash, a pump to pump the water into the caul- 
dron, a mail bag, stamps, wire baskets; besides, 
she has organized the post-office. 

“Yesterday I was told to send over to Mrs. X.’s 
for some jam for the canteen. You know she has a 
large store of it that she has been collecting for 
the hospitals for wounded soldiers when they be- 
gin to come home. We would not have asked her 
for it if it had not been an emergency, but it was 
all for the Red Cross, anyway, and the stuff 
might not have been needed for the wounded for 
months and even years to come. Well, when I 
asked the motor-corps girl to fetch it for us, she 
looked funny and said she was willing to try, but 
she had her doubts, because she had heard Mrs. 
X. declare that she would, if necessary, get a shot- 
gun to protect that jam. However, she managed 
to get it and brought it down to the tracks; but 
before long Mrs. X. appeared and demanded it 
back. By that time, fortunately, most of the jars 
had been opened and the contents spread on 
bread, so we were safe. The few jars remaining 
unopened she wanted to take back with her; but 
I said I intended to keep them, and she could ask 


PIES 217 


Headquarters whether or not we were acting un- 
der orders. She didn’t get the jam, but as she 
left she informed me that the corps would get no 
more except over her dead body! 

“To-day has been another record-breaker. The 
men went wild over their reception. The early 
morning troops were in need of food, as they 
had had very little, and no water, on the train 
since the previous day.” 

On my return from France in June, I found the 
shack, which had been built near the tracks. The 
Red Cross offered me my old position as head of 
the corps, but the canteen was working so well 
under Mrs. Gulick, that I preferred to return asa 
plain private. The new quarters had four rooms, 
in one of which stood our precious motor-kitchen, 
with a big door so that it could be taken out if 
a need arose for it elsewhere. Besides the kitchen 
with its storeroom, there was a reading-room and 
a first-aid station with a nurse in attendance. 
The troop train doctors would stop to get medi- 
cines and supplies, and if a soldier was ill enough 
to need treatment he was left there with the 
nurse. In emergencies a physician could be sum- 
moned from a near-by camp, or an ambulance 


218 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


called to take the invalid to the military hospital. 
The fourth room served as a combined post-office 
and store, where paper and cards were given away, 
stamps sold, mail collected, and chocolates, ciga- 
rettes, and tobacco furnished at low rates. 

It was unbelievable how many men had been 
served with coffee and buns, or jam sandwiches, 
and what quantities had disappeared down ap- 
preciative throats. Often there were from ten to 
fifteen thousand soldiers in a day. Once the corps 
fed twenty thousand. The peak of the load came 
in April and May; after that the numbers were 
slightly less. During the entire year from Sep- 
tember, 1917, to September, 1918, one million, 
seven hundred thousand men stopped at the hut. 

All this was accomplished with the members 
working in six hour shifts, ten on a shift. If no 
trains were going through, the shifts were called 
off. We still did everything ourselves, as in the 
early days. In warm weather when a train pulled 
in, the women carried the great cans and baskets 
out onto the benches in front of the hut, where the 
soldiers lined up and filed past. In cold weather 
they would come inside the hut. In spite of the 
fact that other canteens had given them apples 


PIES 219 


or doughnuts along the way, they always seemed 
glad to see our steaming cans. 

After each shift was ended, such a scrubbing 
as there was of pots and tables, and sterilizing of 
cups, and general tidying-up to get the place in 
readiness for our successors! Then off we went 
across the tracks and up the hill to where the girls 
of the motor corps were waiting to take us home. 
One day we climbed the hill for the last time, for 
the armistice had been signed and the hut was 
closed; after that all returning troops were to 
come into the station. 

In the meanwhile Mrs. Gulick had opened a 
canteen in the big room of the Presidential Suite in 
the station. The early shift fell to my lot, and the 
place used to look pretty dreary at eight o’clock 
in the morning, when we arrived; the only person 
ahead of us was a sloppy colored girl wiping out 
ash-trays or mopping up the floor of the kitchen. 
As it was still dark, we turned on the lights, got 
the morning paper from the news-stand, bought 
stamps from the post-office near by, arranged the 
information desk and lighted the gas range. Any 
coffee left over from the night before was heated 
up and new made, and the remaining doughnuts 


220 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


taken out and put on trays. Presently the baker’s 
man would come with the day’s supply of bread, 
and before long stray soldiers or sailors would drift 
in to enjoy a bite of breakfast, get a cigarette, read 
the papers, or maybe write to their sweethearts. 

Gradually the room would fill and the real work 
of the day begin. At the information desk all sorts 
of questions were asked. Of course most of the 
inquirers were men wanting to know about rooms 
or trains or entertainments, but occasionally 
a woman would come with her problems. One 
mother had journeyed all the way from Michigan 
to see her son, who had just returned wounded 
from overseas. Because of the influenza he had 
been quarantined at Walter Reed for two weeks, 
and she did not have money enough to wait that 
length of time. Washington was very crowded, 
but we managed to find her a room and arranged 
to have her admitted to the hospital with a nurse. 
Another mother came with the pathetic informa- 
tion that her son had died of the same epidemic in 
a camp, and she wanted to know where she could 
get a flag to cover his coffin. At last the influenza 
became so severe and deaths so frequent that we 
provided flags for that purpose. 


PIES 221 


A one-armed Italian who could hardly speak a 
word of English wandered in. We finally managed 
to make out that, while buying his ticket to 
Boston, he had laid twenty dollars down on the 
window-sill. When his back was turned for a mo- 
ment some thief had stolen it, and disappeared 
right under the policeman’s nose. We were only 
too glad to buy the poor fellow a ticket, and it is 
hoped he finally reached his destination safely. 

There was a piano in the room and sometimes 
we had very good music. Once a soldier from over- 
seas played exceptionally well, and sang some 
songs that he had composed himself. When I went 
over to compliment him, he explained that he was 
a professional musician when not in the army; 
just now, he said, he was in hospital, though on 
leave. I eagerly inquired about him of one of the 
women who had been at the canteen regularly; 
she startled me by saying, ‘‘Oh, we know him! 
He is in the insane asylum; he came back from 
the other side with shell shock — but he isn’t 
very bad, so they let him come in town once a 
week.”” We soon became accustomed to these 
pathetic cases, many of whom stared and looked 
stupid and often refused to eat or talk. One night 


222 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


in the first-aid room connected with the canteen, 
we had ten men in strait-jackets. It was said 
that there were more of these ‘‘war neurosis” 
cases in the American army than in any other; 
that it did not exist to such an extent among 
the French and English. . 
Often a telephone message would come from the 
Red Cross Headquarters or railroad officials that 
a trainload of wounded would be in and need a 
full meal. If the men could not leave the train 
and were going farther south, the girls would put 
the food on trucks and serve scrambled eggs, 
coffee, ice-cream, and the ever present pie. As 
the influenza spread, the workers who wished 
to do so put on masks while going through the 
trains. The corps happened upon one whole train- 
load of soldiers who had been so equipped them- 
selves, and a grotesque sight they made, for some 
had pulled the masks down below the chins, and 
others had pushed them up above the eyes. When 
they learned that I had been working at the 
front, the boys were much interested and told 
me what battles they had been in and where they 
had been wounded, and what hospitals they had 
stayed at, and showed me their medals. Some 


PIES 223 


spoke a little French, nearly all joked, and con- 
sidering they were ill, they proved a pretty jolly 
crowd. 

If the wounded were able to leave the cars we 
would have several hundred in the canteen at 
once. In that case tables were pulled out, chairs 
set up, extra workers summoned, and a hearty 
meal of soup, meat, and potatoes ordered from 
the station restaurant. The men would hobble 
into the room or be brought in on stretchers or in 
wheel-chairs. Often they were utterly helpless and 
had to be fed. Then they would go cheerfully off 
to the hospital in the waiting ambulances, smiling 
and thanking the Red Cross ladies. 

The same high spirits were also in evidence on 
their postcard correspondence, which in the early 
days we were required to read and censor be- 
fore sending on, and occasionally to hold up for 
twenty-four hours lest the date of a transport sail- 
ing be revealed. Talking with so many of the men 
as I gave out cards and writing materials, I could 
but notice the innumerable varieties of broken 

_English. Nor was all the quaintness in their 
spoken words; written, they provided even further 
-novelties in the way of spelling and grammar. 


224 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


There is much left for the cause of education to 
accomplish in this country, as the following show: 
“Hello Girl — 

Just had the feed bag tied on — sure did enjoy 
it — all well and having some time — I am still 
riding but enjoying my ride — going north on my 
way to Burlin.” 

And here is another: “‘ This is the life — we are 
having a great trip learning a great many things 
and seeing some wonderful sites on our way thru 
Washington.” Still another rookie rejoices in his 
travels: ‘‘The R. C. ladies are real nice to us — 
gave us these cards. Thought I would Iet you no 
were I was, old sport. If you dont here from me 
dont worry. The country around here is much 
nicer than Georgia I never want to go back there.” 
The food, too, came in for approving comment: 
“Was sorrow to hear at unckle Joe was ded, will 
rite again tell Daisy Iam OKI ate Breakfast in 
one place and Dinner in another yesterday — 
a swell trip — the R C ladies gave us all kinds of 
Good things.” ‘‘I am all rite never no better hav- 
ing a good time all I want to eat.” 

Nor was the publicity of a postcard any bar to 
endearments: ‘‘ Helo Lottie Mae, I received your 


ee 


PIES l 295 


letter and believe me it was as if a breez from 
heaven blew it Im longing to see you —I wish 
these were real X X X X X Be a good girl till we 
meet again.’”” Another lover had the consoling 
thought, ‘‘The father from yo III get the nearer to 
Burlin.” And this last is surely all that any girl 
could desire: “‘My dear sweetheart I hope this 
will find you and all in good health I will close 
with love to you my sweetheart from Your sweet- 
heart.” 

And so the canteen carried on, until November, 
1919, and I cannot say enough in praise of Mrs. 
Gulick, Miss Sheridan, Mrs. Duncan, and all the 
plucky hard-working women who made it such 
a success. It gave us a chance to do our bit, a 
pleasant experience and a valuable one. Looking 
back at the courageous and light-hearted men who 
came and were fed and stayed only to thank us, 
we also can say, in their own words, “‘ This sure is 
a fine country, too!” 


CHAPTER XI 

A Topsy-Turvy Capital 
THE declaration of war in April of 1917 — April 
seems to be our favorite month for going to war — 
had a very revolutionary effect upon Washington. 
Changes great and small began taking place im- 
mediately, and more and more of them as time 
went on, till you would scarcely have recognized 
the city. 

These changes were, of course, reflected in the 
social life. The war created a perfect bedlam of 
new boards, and new people came from all parts 
of the United States and sprang into promi- 
nence overnight. Hundreds of trained men — sci- 
entists, financiers, surgeons, writers, inventors, 
creators from every walk of art and science and 
commerce — poured into Washington at the first 
call. They came to work at a quarter of their regu- 
lar incomes, or even at a dollar a year, living in 
crowded quarters or in flimsy shacks, and shifting 
from pillar to post as the need arose. Although 
some of them worked hard during the day, they 


BALL-ROOM, ANDERSON HOUSE, WASHINGTON 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 227 


seemed to enjoy dining out in the evening, and 
old Washingtonians found it difficult to place 
the important ones at table according to their 
rank, 

This matter of precedence is always one of the 
most discussed at any capital, for its recognition 
and consideration are as important to the eti- 
quette of a capital city as the social life is neces- 
sary for the carrying on of its affairs. There seems 
to be a tendency nowadays to disregard such for- 
malities — even a desire to show a sort of ‘‘inde- 
pendence”’ by not doing the right thing in such 
matters. But precedence and etiquette make for 
the dignity of person and respect for government, 
and are the outward and visible sign, not of the 
man, but of his office. In a republic I suppose there 
is likely to be an inclination to disregard this, al- 
though the Republic of France is as scrupulous 
as any monarchy in cherishing the dignity of gov- 
ernment. 

Much of this spirit of “‘independence”’ in our 
own country is really insincere. The scramble for 
decorations and the awed manner in which Ameri- 
cans have talked about foreign distinctions since 
the war began have been most amusing to Wash- 


228 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ingtonians, who for many years have understood 
the value of such honors. Abroad it is considered 
better to give a man a piece of ribbon, or a handle 
to his name and a high place at table, than to re- 
pay him in a money way by bonuses and pensions, 
or with an office for which he may be absolutely 
unfitted, to the disadvantage of the public service. 

When ambassadors were first named to this 
country there was an almost undignified race be- 
tween the British and French to be appointed 
first and so become doyen of the Diplomatic 
Corps. Lord Pauncefote succeeded and so carried 
that prestige for England. All ambassadors rank 
alike, but they ‘‘pass’’ according to the presenta- 
tion of their letters of credence. Ministers pleni- 
potentiary, no matter when appointed, have to 
follow newly arrived ambassadors, and cede pre- 
cedence to them. These officials represent nations 
and so should be given priority on all possible oc- 
casions. When entertaining Americans, the Diplo- 
matic Corps regards itself as one family and so 
gives them the highest places. 

In the old days a Vice-President demanded to 
pass before ambassadors on the ground that he 
was “‘heir-apparent”’ to the President and so en- 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 229 


titled to it, and this has been generally granted 
to be the case. 

But there has always been difficulty — what- 
ever the State Department might advise — in 
seating members of the Supreme Court, Senate, 
and Cabinet. Frequently it is wiser not to run 
any risk by inviting at the same time officials 
who may find fault with their places. Among in- 
dividuals of each set, however, it is simple, for 
the Justices succeed the Chief Justice in order of 
their service, and Senators are ranked by groups 
according to their date of membership, while Cab- 
inet members have a settled order, the Secretary 
of State being first. 

New American officials, when they first come to 
Washington, do not seem either to know or to care 
about precedence, but it does not take them very 
long to become interested in the subject and to 
look about the table to see if they are being prop- 
erly placed. 


One of the men who helped the Administration 
run the war was Barney Baruch — Bernard M. 
Baruch. Like Baker, he is of German Jewish ex- 
traction, and like McAdoo, thin of lip and keen 


230 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


of eye although very good-looking. He came 
into the limelight chiefly in connection with the 
‘peace leak.’” As a dinner companion I found 
him extremely clever and agreeable. 

Mr. Davison, head of the War Council for the 
American Red Cross, is famous for raising a 
huge sum of money for the organization when 
no one else thought it could be done. By pro- 
fession he is a banker, and looks the typical 
American business man. I think he made an ex- 
cellent representative of the Red Cross, and on 
the whole it was a great success. Of course, like 
any big organization, it fell down occasionally on 
tact and efficiency, but in general the spirit was 
good. While a few thought chiefly of decorations, 
the majority worked hard and unselfishly. 

Mr. Hoover is also absolutely an American 
business-man type. A worker under him wrote me 
the following: ‘‘As I saw Mr. Hoover frequently 
in the Food Administration in Washington, I 
grew to have a tremendous personal admiration 
for him, and to understand, in a way, his great 
power of accomplishing things which at first sight 
looked impossible. Indeed, what he accomplished 
in the Food Commission would not, I believe, 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 231 


have been possible for any other man — or for 
Mr. Hoover himself, without the prestige which 
his work in Belgium had given him. There was no 
department in Washington where there was such 
personal loyalty to its chief as there was in ours. 
This was all the more remarkable because Mr. 
Hoover has as little personal magnetism and as 
little companionability as any great executive I 
ever saw. His whole attention has been so absorbed 
by big things that he has disregarded many of the 
small amenities of life. To study him and watch his 
handling of any matter of importance gives one 
an insight into his broad grasp of the whole world 
situation. Yet it is all done with the greatest mod- 
esty. He has no time either to flatter himself or 
you, but you feel the idealism of the man, and I 
suppose it’s that which fixes your loyalty. I be- 
lieve that what he has done is as unselfish as any 
work a man could do.” 

There were a great many splendid and execu- 
tive men, too many for me to mention, and a great 
deal of work was most successfully accomplished, 
but of course some war boards got unfavorable 
mention — perhaps justly — and Shipping and 
Aviation both received a deal of criticism first 


232 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


and last. The investigation of the latter board 
resulted in clearing its members of dishonesty, 
but it convicted them of gross extravagance and 
inefficiency. The Shipping Board was far from 
being above reproach too, but it did succeed in 
getting some new vessels across the water, at any 
rate. (Though I know of one, at least, which broke 
down twelve times on its maiden voyage!) 

The preliminaries of construction at Hog Is- 
land, Bristol Point, and Port Newark had been 
begun with speed and efficiency. All contracts 
for the erection of shipyards were drawn up by 
Colonel Goethals. Then everything slowed up 
and stopped. The contracts could not be signed. 
Washington red tape forbade it. There were 
changes, and counter-changes, and Goethals re- 
signed. Four long months the contracts were held 
up. ‘Red Tape,’’ some one complained bitterly, 
“is synonymous with sand in the cylinders!” 

It was not until a year later, the spring of 1918, 
that one began to see results. We started north 
from Wilmington on Roxana and along the Dela- 
ware River were impressed by the many new 
ship-building plants. We were frankly surprised 
at the vast undertaking, but soon the wasteful 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 233 


and extravagant programme was only too evi- 
dent. The Navy Yard and Hog Island with its 
many huge ways, loomed up like the gigantic 
skeletons of mastodons. At Hog Island thirty-five 
ships were just begun, while on the opposite shore 
twenty-four torpedo-boat destroyers were in an- 
other plant. At Cramps’, farther on, we noticed 
twenty-one destroyers under construction. 

Wooden vessels were made so hurriedly that 
green lumber was used instead of seasoned wood, 
so with time they shrink or swell and become 
unsafe and practically worthless. The newspapers 
quoted Mr. Hurley as saying that it might cost 
the Government less in the end if the boats were 
all scrapped rather than finished. 

Past the shipyards of Bridesburg and Bristol 
and many more, we came to Bordentown and en- 
tered the Delaware and Raritan Canal, which led 
us by many locks past Carnegie Lake and the 
well-kept farms of the Holy Jumpers, into the 
Raritan River. Cruising downstream toward New 
York, we saw a vast acreage of lowland with many 
storehouses built at a tremendous expense for 
munitions — later the scene of an awful explo- 
sion, 


234 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Continuing our way northward, the story was 
always the same; plant after plant, some with 
ships barely begun, some where they had been 
finished for months, but were still waiting for or- 
ders. At New London serried rows of submarines, 
scores of them, were tied nose to the bank along 
the river, and we came across several curious 
concrete vessels. A mother ship for seaplanes was 
a novel sight in Narragansett Bay — she reminded 
me of a nurse shark with the sucking pilot-fish 
upon her back. At the stern on inflated runners 
was a wingless plane, while roundabout on the 
water were several with wings, ready for use. 
Close by floated endless gray men-of-war, and 
numberless torpedo destroyers with the names 
of naval heroes painted on their sides and service 
stripes upon their funnels. 

Nearing Boston, we came to the largest ship- 
building area of all, that at Squantum. There un- 
der one glass roof alone — and that a single plant 
among many — thirty acres of construction work 
was going on. 


From the autumn of 1917 to the spring of 1918 
I was, as I have said, in France, but letters from 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 235 


various sources kept me more or less in touch with 
conditions at home. A few brief extracts will serve 
to give some impression of how things were going. 

September. ‘‘Confusion worse confounded. 
Chaos indeed reigns here.” 

October. ‘‘ Washington is jammed — you feel it 
the moment you arrive — everybody is crowd- 
ing in and rents have gone sky-high. There are 
no rooms in the hotels or boarding-houses or 
anywhere, and people seem to be camping in the 
parks. It is a fine autumn, but too cold for the 
season.” 

November. ‘‘There is little going on among the 
old Washingtonians and a mob of new people 
are overrunning the place. It makes one sick 
and dizzy to realize that the old distinguished, 
delightful Washington has disappeared, never to 
return. 

“The poor foreign officers— seventy-five smart- 
looking young Frenchmen among them — have 
absolutely no place to go nor anything to do. So 
far we seem to have failed to take advantage of 
them as military instructors. Things are get- 
ting more and more mixed here, rather than 
straightening out. The new and inexperienced 


236 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


men with tremendous autocratic powers are play- 
ing the very devil with business and everything 
else. There must have been another ‘leak’ yester- 
day, for the stock market took a terrible tumble. 
To-day comes bad news from Italy — somebody 
knew it ahead of the others.” 

December. ‘‘ A sunny, cold day out of doors, and 
cold indoors, too, for the coal famine has caused 
suffering everywhere to everybody — due, no 
doubt, to some incompetent, for all the way 
from the Middle West last week I saw lines of 
cars filled with coal waiting for God knows what. 
The trains, too, are jammed with people wildly 
journeying about, but when things are at sixes 
and sevens, one has to be satisfied to pull through 
at all. 

‘Prohibition has recently come in, and although 
we are not supposed to drink, nevertheless cock- 
tail parties are rampant both inside and outside 
of the District line. C’est la guerre! What will be 
the future of the Capital? It may actually be diffi- 
cult to find diplomats willing to come to Washing- 
ton to reside, for these men are used to wines in 
their own country. They will hardly want to im- 
port their liquor, since it is against the American 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 237 


law, and they will have no entertainments to go 
out to but such as are dry and dull. During 
the past years it has become very evident that 
opportunities for the interchange of ideas, the 
informal give-and-take of casual discussion, such 
as should exist in a national capital, have been 
slowed up. And now it looks as if the knell of 
social life here had really been sounded.” 
Another friend wrote to me about this time: 
“Prohibition has been forced on us. Washing- 
ton has repeatedly sought representation in 
Congress, but has repeatedly been denied it, 
and the American capital is governed in an un- 
American way, taxation without representation, 
and all its laws and regulations made without 
consideration for those who must live under them. 
The Commissioners have been lately very unsat- 
isfactory. President Taft and President Roose- 
velt had the good of Washington at heart, and 
through Fine Arts Commissions and in many 
other ways have sought to develop its beautiful 
opportunities. Senator McMillan, who for many 
years was chairman of the Senate Committee on 
District Affairs, sent commissioners abroad to 
study foreign municipal methods for the benefit 


238 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


of the Capital, and Rock Creek Park is a memorial 
to his foresight and public service. But the recent 
Commissioners seem to care little for it, and have 
announced that the city is to be ‘socialized,’ not 
‘beautified.’ The effect of this practice has not 
been to the advantage of Washington. Indeed, 
lately there seems to have been even animus in 
legislation concerning the District, and radical 
taxation has been put over, so that the collections 
are greater than the needs of the community 
warrant.” 

“Travel is almost impossible,”’ writes my cor- 
respondent on the 5th of January. ‘‘They have 
taken off trains, and those which do run are 
hours late; some of them take twelve hours go- 
ing from here to New York. Diners, sleepers, and 
chair cars have gone into the discard.” 

January 28. ‘“‘It snowed last night and is colder 
than ever. We have only the edge of the blizzard 
here, but it is bad enough, for this is a ‘heatless 
day.’ All the stores and office buildings are closed. 
Washington is so crowded that you have to give 
rooms to almost any comers. There are thou- 
sands more arriving daily who are only in the 
way and clog conditions.” 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 239 


January 30. ‘‘Here it is snowing again; on top 
of the worst weather of twenty years comes this 
new storm, and after the most unprecedented 
cold spell of almost two months! The roads are 
blocked and there is no coal. We are down low, 
our fuel is almost gone, while some have none at 
all. Yesterday I heard that the poor revolution- 
ary Russian Ambassador has had to give up his 
house because he could n’t meet his bills; to-day 
when I was out I saw them taking the coal from 
his house and sending it, I suppose, to some one 
who can pay for it. I felt like grabbing some of it 
myself.’’ 

We returned to Washington in June, and found 
that as time went on, conditions had become, if 
anything, worse. Houses were still full as bee- 
hives, with the war workers continuing to stream 
into town; girls of all sorts— some pretty and 
some ugly, some ladies and some toughs, some 
from town and some from country — a river of fe- 
males that flowed from the offices at four-thirty, 
spread into every crevice of the city. Numbers 
of them had little to do but sit idly at desks all 
day and be paid by the Government; most of 
their money poured into their landladies’ pock- 


240 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ets, but what was left apparently went for silk 
stockings and high-heeled shoes. 

Houses were commandeered, and lawsuits to get 
rid of tenants so that more profitable ones could 
be put in were an every-day occurrence. People 
rushed back to Washington from all corners of the 
earth to save their homes from being taken by the 
Government. During October you hardly dared 
leave for a moment, for while you were away a 
blue sign might be put up, saying that the house 
had been commandeered. A woman we knew gave 
her two servants a holiday and went out to 
luncheon; during her absence the key of her front 
door was procured and Government agents let 
themselves in, went all over the place, and put up 
the signs. Fortunately she could prove that she 
did war work and expected to have her bed- 
rooms filled in a few days with others in service, 
so her house was given back to her. 

It seemed as if the committee on housing ‘had 
it in” for the Northwest part of town, for there 
were a number of unoccupied dwellings in other 
sections. Investigators even went to small apart- 
ments. Owners returned and put their tenants 
out; sometimes the tenants refused to be put out. 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 241 


Such a time as there was here could not have been 
believed possible. 

In the twinkling of an eye servants became as 
extinct as the dodo, and not even fossils remained. 
Most of them either became war workers or gave 
up working altogether. Wages for the few that 
remained, soared. Bolshevism began to appear. 

Then there were spies, and stories of spies, to 
add to the excitement. It was discovered that a 
very prominent official in Washington employed 
a butler and his wife who were also in the employ 
of the German Government. The police went to 
the house to arrest them, but the mistress begged 
so hard that they might be allowed to stay through 
a dinner party she happened to be giving that her 
request was granted. As a result, of course, both 
of them escaped and were never found. 

On another occasion the secret service men 
went to the opposite extreme and were over- 
cautious. My husband entered a newspaper office 
one day with a friend who had charge of a Gov- 
ernment department. Some stirring news had just 
come in and the editor with whom they talked 
told them all about it. When they came out, L. 
asked his friend if he wanted to stop and look at 


242 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the bulletin board where the headlines were just 
being written down. Being in a hurry, Mr. X. an- 
swered rather emphatically, ‘‘No, I don’t want 
to read it.’”” When they reached the machine at 
the curb, two secret service men held him up and 
demanded what he meant by not wanting to read 
that news — did he disapprove of what the Presi- 
dent had done? Before they would let him go, 
Mr. X. had to explain who he was, and why he 
did not want to stop to read the bulletin! 

Something happened in Boston about that time 
which I have never heard explained. While Ger- 
man submarines were known to be lurking off 
the Massachusetts coast, the sailing of five trans- 
ports was heralded to the world by all the horns 
and whistles and bells for miles around. At one 
time or another the secret service there tried to 
have various suspects reported for internment, 
but two city officials blocked a number of the re- 
ports so they did not reach Washington. These 
men were finally removed. 

And there were other criticisms too. The failure 
to care for wounded soldiers landing at a certain 
port from overseas became a scandal — trainloads 
of them were left for hours without food and with- 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 243 


out a single nurse to help the maimed. We were 
not the only delinquents in that respect, for I hear 
the same thing happened to returning Canadian 
soldiers. But that did not excuse us. It was sheer 
mismanagement, for some of our men were fed 
eight times on a short journey. Indeed they were 
as a whole superlatively well cared for. 

On top of everything else the plague of influ- 
enza struck the city. Under ordinary circum- 
stances it would have been bad enough, but with 
the crowded conditions here it was terrible beyond 
description. 

I attended five funerals in a week, three mili- 
tary ones in a single day at Arlington. And such 
sad ones — a British army officer, an American 
naval officer, and a nurse. This last, a beautiful 
young girl of twenty-one, had been nursing at a 
camp, her father was fighting in France, and she 
was an only child. The British officer’s funeral 
was quite pathetic — no family, few friends — 
buried in a lonely spot in a strange country. At 
the naval officer’s funeral the weeping fiancée 
made it seem specially heart-breaking. From the 
cemetery gate the slow procession winding up the 
hill, with the autumn leaves rustling in the sun- 


244 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


=f. = ———————— eee 


shine, the Potomac shining in the distance, and 
the smoke rising over the city, the tramp of the 
soldiers, the solemn military music, the black 
group at the grave, the bugler blowing taps, the 
firing of the last volley, the solemn words of the | 
minister, the thud of the grave-diggers— and _ 
then only a patch of gay flowers left there on the 
hillside. 

The army dispensary, I heard, was swamped — 
with work, so I went down to see if I could help. 
It was crowded, chiefly by girls from the different 
Government departments who needed treatment. 
The woman at the desk wore a white mask. Doc- — 

} 


eg) oe ee 


tors were examining people in the different rooms. — 
I was asked to attend to the telephone. Messages — 
poured in — ‘‘Jenny Andrews, ordnance depart- — 
ment; has not been on duty for two days; please © 
have her looked up, as she may be ill.” “ Daisy ; 
Irwin, very ill; quartermaster department; must — 
have immediate attention.”’ : 
Visiting nurses returned with reports: ‘‘Four — 
girls turned out by their landlady, one off on a 
junket.’ “‘Seven girls in a room, each paying 
forty dollars a month rent; three in a bed, one — 
with pneumonia, no attention.” Hospitals all 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 245 


filled, few nurses, few doctors, drugstores mostly 
sold out; rumors that aspirin had been tampered 
with by the Germans; wild rumors — four doc- 
tors in camp found to be traitors, poisoned sweat- 
ers given to the army; poisoned socks I know 
to be absolutely a fact. So many people died 
they could n’t be buried; the bodies could n’t be 
shipped; the simplest funeral cost a fortune. 

The dispensary became so crowded that the 
visiting nurses were transferred to a schoolhouse. 
Volunteers were called for. People offered their 
motors and were asked to investigate cases. Those 
who had had some experience did district nursing, 
so I offered my services. Such a variety of people 
and places as I was sent to! 

Officer’s family, for instance — three ill; the 
wife met me at the door, said her husband was 
better, but the two children were still very sick; 
however, they had been able to get a doctor and 
a nurse, so I gave them the telephone number in 
case another nurse was needed, and left. 

The next house on my list was full of war work- 
ers, all more or less ill, and one girl dying. Two 
other girls were sleeping in the same room, as 
they had nowhere else to go. I made up her bed, 


246 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


bathed her, and combed her hair, got a hot-water 
bottle and the medicines, and went into the 
kitchen and warmed some milk for her. The doc- 
tor was there and said he would return later, 
and a fellow worker promised to stay with her. 
The landlady was kind and doing everything she 
could. I wrote down my report, ‘‘ Nurse needed 
daily.”” They had not had one before, and begged 
me to stay, but unfortunately I could not. 

My third address turned out to be a hovel, a 
colored shack in the slums of Washington, but 
there was crape on the door, so I went on, this 
time to a house in the fashionable quarter, but I 
did not stop there either, for the patient was a ~ 
rich girl war worker who was well taken care of. 
Orders were not to stop unless absolutely neces- 
sary — the nurses had so many to visit, they 
were not even expected to clean up, but I always 
tried to do that. 

Another address took me to the outskirts of the 
town — asmall corner store behind which I found — 
a filthy room with dirty linen all about, occupied 
by an emaciated woman who looked as if she had 
consumption. In the other room, the kitchen, her 
husband was ill in bed with double pneumonia. 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 247 


As usual, I took the pulse, temperature and respi- 
ration, then proceeded to clean up the two rooms, 
gathering up all the dirty linen and putting it on 
the porch, sweeping out the rooms and washing 
the dishes. There was only one clean sheet left in 
the house, and not enough bedclothes. A sixteen- 
year-old girl, the daughter, who looked rather like 
a defective, came in, and a child with a bad 
cough; the family was apparently poor white 
trash. They were all too ill to think or talk very 
much, but had had a doctor, though no nurse. I 
cooked up something for them to eat, and went on. 

My next card read ‘‘urgent.’’ I ran into what 
might have been a boarding-house, near the Capi- 
tol. No one answered my ring, but that was not 
unusual. I called, but got no answer. The house 
seemed empty. Thinking I heard a sound inside, 
I opened the door and went in. Upstairs I found a 
sitting-room, very dirty, and filled with bottles, 
glasses, and cigar ashes. I wondered what kind of 
a place it could be. A bedroom opened from it, 
and in bed there lay a pretty young girl very ill 
with influenza. She told me that she had only 
been in town a couple of days, and that her land- 
lady worked in a Government office, so that she 


248 PRESIDENTS AND PIES. 


was out. Like most of the newcomers, this girl 
was short of everything but flimsy lingerie and 
silk stockings. I thought the landlady was prob- 
ably disreputable, and was getting quite excited 
about it, when she came in and to my surprise 
I found her a very nice Southern woman who 
promised to do everything for the girl. So I knew 
she was at least all right for the night. What the 
doctor decided next day I never heard. 

A little Jewish couple interested me especially; 
he was devoted to his young wife and took entire 
care of her; their rooms were as neat as could be. 
But he seemed utterly exhausted, and so I asked 
that a nurse should be sent there daily. 

I was reporting at headquarters when a man 
came in and said two brothers, friends of his, were 
dangerously ill. The matron asked me to go at 
once with him to the house where they lived. I 
found one patient quite out of his head and the 
other dying. An old woman was taking care of 
them very inadequately. While I was there the 
doctor arrived and declared they would both die. 
It was too late to send them to a hospital, even 
if he could get them in, which was almost an 
impossibility. I bathed them and put clean sheets 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 249 


on the bed. The man who was delirious insisted 
on my showing him his new derby hat, which he 
never had a chance to wear, poor fellow. It was in 
this place that I first put on a mask, for they had 
the influenza very virulently. 

Some of the cases, even in their desperation, 
had a grotesque side. A nurse on arriving at a 
lodging-house was greeted by the landlady with a 
torrent of oaths. She said all the people there were 
sick, and no help of any kind could she get — 
why had n’t the nurse appeared before? The girl 
tried to explain that there were so many ill that 
it had been impossible for her to arrive sooner, 
ending, ‘‘I have been extremely busy.” 

“‘Busy?’’ cried the woman, “‘busy?’’ She pointed 
through the window. ‘‘Do you see that funeral 
just leaving for the cemetery? Well, I am so busy 
I can’t go to my own husband’s funeral!”’ 

Because of my experience at the front and also 
during the epidemic, I found it difficult to give up 
work entirely, and after the influenza was over 
visited some of the hospitals around Washington 
in the hope of being able to help in one way or 
another. 

The Government was sending its worst cases of 


250 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


war neurosis, or ‘‘shell shock,’’ to Saint Eliza- 
beth’s, the District of Columbia hospital for the 
insane, which was the subject of much discussion 
and investigation. I had visited so many institu- 
tions on the other side and on this that I was in- 
terested to see for myself how things were going, 
and asked a good many questions of Red Cross 
men, officials, and patients regarding the man- 
agement. I went through a number of the wards 
where some of the most critical cases lay, and into 
the private rooms and parlors, and through the 
kitchens. In such a huge establishment the con- 
tinual stream of arrivals from overseas and con- 
sequent overcrowding caused one to make allow- 
ances. 

Certainly the food needed improvement, how- 
ever, and there should have been more attendants 
to take the men out of doors for air and exercise. 
At that time no attempt had been made to give 
the patients work or handicraft diversions. They 
were not employed in gardening, though there 
were large and beautiful grounds through which 
those who were well enough could roam about and 
play games. It did seem as if Saint Elizabeth’s, 
of all places, most needed occupational therapy. 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 251 


Many hospitals were badly in need of ambulances, 
but this one must have been the worst off of all, 
for even in war-time it had only one, and that 
drawn by a pair of old horses. 

But those were difficult days, and both military 
and civilian hospitals were so crowded that one 
should not be too critical. At the Walter Reed, 
where wounded soldiers came pouring in, I heard 
several complaints. The men grumbled because 
they had to be operated on, willing or not, if the 
surgeons said so—the alternative was court- 
martial. One trouble was that the doctors shifted 
frequently, and the diagnoses varied accordingly. 
Another was that surgeons who had not been 
overseas were loath to use the Dakin solution as 
freely as the French hospitals had been employ- 
ing it. It was much more trouble and perhaps not 
so well understood, but fortunately it finally came 
into more general use. As time went on conditions 
everywhere became better. 

We often piled the motor high with small gifts, 
fruit and homemade jams, magazines and pos- 
tal cards, and other things that soldiers like, and 
drove to the hospitals. I generally went to the iso- 
lated barracks where no one was allowed to visit, 


252 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


ordinarily, but I had secured permits for certain 
wards, for these patients especially needed gifts 
and cheery words. The consumptives, poor, weak, 
white-faced things, were out on the piazza in beds, 
but more pathetic than they — indeed, most pa- 
thetic of all — were the shell-shock cases. 

A boy came into the station canteen one day 
who said he had just left the hospital, which he 
guessed was ‘‘a Christian Science establishment,” 
because he had been sent there to be treated for 
rheumatism and all they had done for him was to 
give him a bed. Now he had just been discharged, 
no better than when he went in. It is, of course, 
possible that more had been done for him than he 
realized. 

Of quite another sort were my experiences with 
the wounded soldiers on Colonel Thompson’s 
houseboat, Everglades. During good weather this 
was used daily to give the doughboys an outing. 
Nearly all of them had come from overseas, some 
on stretchers, bandaged, legless or armless, for 
further treatment at the Walter Reed. As fast as 
their wounds healed they were fitted out with 
arms and legs, and those who were well enough 
were given trips down the river. Fifty or more 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 253 


would arrive at the dock in an electric car and 
hobble aboard the houseboat, where they could 
sit or lie about on the broad deck in the sunshine 
and enjoy the scenery as they glided down the 
Potomac. 

There were always several women on hand to 
talk with them, play games, and serve luncheon. 
This meal consisted of bowls of oyster soup, ham 
sandwiches, coffee, pies, candies, apples, and ci- 
garettes. There was plenty of everything and I 
never in my life saw so much food disappear in 
such a short time. Besides cards, checkers, and 
games for the soldiers’ amusement, there were 
magazines and newspapers, and of course the ever- 
present phonograph. 

My fate fell to a man from Alabama, a cheerful 
soul who talked with such a Southern accent I 
could hardly understand him. He understood how 
to play checkers, however, and beat me badly 
several times. He was minus an arm, and had not 
acquired an artificial one — probably his stump 
had not yet healed. We did not get on the subject 
of the war, but conversed principally about games 
of which he said he was pretty tired, he had played 
so much in the hospitals. We were joined by a 


254 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


blond soldier — rather a dandy with a gold ring 
and wrist watch — who talked with a foreign ac- 
cent. He proved to be an Italian from New York 
and we discussed the war in French. As he knew 
several languages he hoped to get a position with 
the Government as translator. Most of the re- 
turned soldiers wanted to go into the civil service 
— it paid better, they said. One of the boys had 
a rubber hand such as I had not seen before. 

Although they seemed to like to tell you all 
about their wounds, on the whole they were not 
as communicative as the poilus, who would at 
once give you their names and ask yours and dis- 
play pictures of their families. Our boys asked 
few questions, and it was like pulling teeth to get 
much out of them. 

A soldier from Oklahoma, however, did tell me 
about a battle in which he had been separated 
from the Americans and found himself fighting 
with the Algerians, and finally was left entirely 
alone beside one. They prowled around together 
and poked into a dugout. The Algerian called out 
in bad French and asked if any one was there. 
Up came three Boche officers. The Algerian in- 
sisted upon killing them at once, saying that he 


A TOPSY-TURVY CAPITAL 255 


never took Germans alive. One of the officers 
spoke very good English, for he had lived for seven 
years in New York, and he begged the soldier from 
Oklahoma to spare his life. The Algerian took all 
their belongings, weapons, watches, and money 
and divided them with the American, who finally 
succeeded in persuading him not to kill their pris- 
oners, and they all started back toward the rear. 
On the way, however, the Oklahoma man got hit 
in the shoulder by a shell, and when a French 
stretcher-bearer arrived and took him off to the 
hospital the others disappeared and he never saw 
or heard of them afterwards. But he still treasured 
a gold watch which had belonged to one of their 
prisoners. 

As we docked, the unwieldy houseboat smashed 
into the wharf, making a great hole in her side. It 
caused a lot of noise and jolting, but nobody got 
excited and the soldiers limped ashore, happy and 
well fed. 

The autumn days were golden. The clock was 
set back, and the days shortened. The twinkling 
lights on gay F Street gave glimpses of khaki uni- 
forms and the dark blue-black of the naval officers 
with their gold braid and the French horizon blue, 


256 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


with a touch of flame color on the collars of the 
Britishers from the home office. Restaurants were 
filled and canteens, and there was always the lively 
sound of music issuing forth from phonographs. 

Then one day extras were called out, with the 
amazing news that the armistice was signed. 
What a celebration! Trucks were filled with office 
workers, and every one who had a motor decorated 
it and drove up and down Pennsylvania Avenue. — 
The sidewalks were crowded with people blowing 
horns, banging tin pans, dancing and shouting. 
Girls knocked off sailors’ hats and threw confetti. 
It was a wild scene, but a jolly, good-natured 
crowd. 

Processions were formed, with many amusing 
signs. One group carried a coffin with the in- 
scription, ‘‘The Kaiser’s Gone to Hell.” Another 
group had a stuffed figure of His Imperial Ma- 
jesty which was pelted with stones, and finally 
strung up to a lamp-post to the delight of the 
cheering people. Great bonfires were started, and 
flashlights played on flying machines, and every- 
body was happy beyond words that peace had 
come. 


CHAPTER XII 
Royalties Arrive 


Wirt the signing of the armistice we hoped that 
some, at least, of our troubles were over, but it 
was not long before we began to realize that many 
difficulties, both at home and abroad, remained 
to be met and settled. Besides the gigantic prob- 
lems of the peace table, the great social unrest 
that had been kept under some sort of control 
while we were at war broke out everywhere in 
the form of violence, agitation, and secret propa- 
ganda. Boston alone suffered from four public- 
service strikes within a few months — telephone, 
street-car, railroad, and police. Prices soared in- 
stead of falling, and matters grew worse rather 
than better. 

Some people felt that the President should have 
stayed at home and tried to straighten things out 
instead of going off to France, but others agreed 
with him that his higher duty lay there rather 
than here. At any rate, as a humorous versifier 
put it, 


258 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


“Then who should go with courage high 
To sit in conclave at Versailles — 
And stick his finger in the pie? 
But Woodrow!” 


When Wilson first reached France he was wel- 
comed royally, but as time went on his popularity 
seemed to wane. People here at home did not 
understand exactly what the League of Nations 
was all about, and Senators especially questioned 
some of the fourteen points and refused to give 
him the backing he wanted. So he returned to 
America for a short stay in order to explain his 
views. 

The day the President landed in Boston, I hap- 
pened to be working in the Army and Navy Can- 
teen on the Common, where crowds were gather- 
ing to see him drive past and perhaps get a 
glimpse of the much-talked-of deerskin coat made 
for him by admiring Virginians, or of Mrs. Wil- 
son’s new red Paris hat. The soldiers who were 
eating in the canteen, however, showed no interest 
in the procession that was to pass so near them, 
and when I inquired, out of curiosity, if they were 
going to vote for Wilson next term, each and 
every one replied, ‘No, I want a Republican.” 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 259 


When I asked whom they would prefer, they did 
n’t seem to know, but stuck to it that he must be 
a Republican. 

As there was little doing in the canteen, the 
hostess allowed me to go out and see what was 
happening. Squirming into the thick of the crowd, 
I managed to get within two or three rows of the 
curb, a position from which I could at least see the 
sharpshooters on the roofs opposite hiding behind 
the chimneys, evidently put there to protect the 
President in case of rioting. Some tough boys 
standing near me in the crowd were very enter- 
taining with their slangy speech, and I amused 
myself comparing the language of Ade’s fables of 
twenty years ago with that of to-day. “Oh, boy!”’ 
“How’d you get that way?” ‘‘You’ve said a 
trunkful — express yourself!’’ were a few of their 
remarks. I was just concluding that Mr. Ade had 
a lot to learn when there was a shove and a rush 
and a gallop of horses, and hats came off, and 
people stood on their toes and cheered. But I only 
saw the top of the President’s gray head, as the 
motor passed. 

Boston is rather a skeptical city, and Mr. Wil- 
son was welcomed with more enthusiasm than I 


260 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


had anticipated. I found that people who had n’t 
cared much for him before were rather pleased 
with him after this visit, especially if they had 
heard his speech. On the whole, he left a very 
good impression. 

Accounts received later from Washington indi- 
cated that he met with less success there than in 
Boston. His explanations of the League of Nations 
did not fully explain, and some of the Senators, 
especially Lodge, were still dissatisfied. After a 
short stay he returned to France. 

The following summer, in the midst of a tran- 
quil cruise along the Maine coast, a cablegram 
arrived which caused us much discussion. It was 
from the Belgian Ambassador, who was abroad at 
the time, asking if our house in Washington could 
be made ready at once and servants left there, 
so that it might be used, during the visit of the 
King and Queen to this country, as the Belgian 
Embassy. The Ambassador had only just been 
promoted from Minister, and his previous house, 
though it had been large enough for a legation, 
would not do for an embassy, 

Of course we should have been more than de- 
lighted to have answered “‘yes”’ to his question, 


GALLERY, ANDERSON HOUSE, WASHINGTON 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 261 


and tried to think of some way to do so. But the 
house was closed, the servants were all in Brook- 
line, and it happened that we were without a 
housekeeper. It would have meant getting in a 
score of extra servants— and who could lay 
hands on so many at a moment’s notice? So alto- 
gether it was not possible, greatly to our regret. 

As it turned out, however, Their Majesties 
did not go directly to Washington as had been 
planned, but on account of the President’s illness 
they went instead to Boston and then West, visit- 
ing the Capital at the very last, just before they 
left the country. 

This change of programme naturally compli- 
cated matters somewhat. Among other things it 
made their Boston stay fall on a Sunday, so that 
the King was unable to visit the manufacturing 
plants which he had wished particularly to see. It 
happened also that Cardinal Mercier was in town 
that day. In the forenoon the Royal family went 
to the cathedral, lunched at the Copley-Plaza, 
received a committee of Belgian Relief and other 
war workers, and motored out to Harvard, where 
the King received a degree. L. had been asked to 
help in the arrangements for their reception, and 


262 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


we were both invited to join the Governor and 
Mayor and their wives in receiving the guests at 
the station and accompanying them during the 
day. 

It had been planned that, after the Royal party 
left Harvard, they should drive over to Weld for 
a cup of tea and a few minutes of much-needed 
rest. You can imagine how excited our household 
was and how we rubbed and scrubbed and put out 
all our best things, including, of course, our Bel- 
gian souvenirs — the piece of ironwork from the 
Cloth Hall of Ypres, a signboard of Ramscapelle 
where I went just behind the front-line trenches 
with General Drubbel; and last, but not least, the 
handkerchief which the Queen had given me in 
La Panne one day when I had lost mine! 

But all our efforts came to a sad end, for just a 
few hours before Their Majesties’ arrival a tele- 
gram arrived telling of the sudden death of a 
member of the family. We sat up all night chang- 
ing our plans and writing messages, for we had 
to leave on the first train for the Middle West. 
The big round cake, with its Belgian colors and 
‘‘Welcome’”’ on the icing, was sent in with flowers 
to the Royal private car with explanations and 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 263 


apologies. The streets about our place were lined 
that day with motors, we heard, all filled with 
eager people, who, alas, had to go away disap- 
pointed. 

After the exercises at Sanders Theater the 
Royal party motored to President Lowell’s house 
for tea, instead. The story goes that in the con- 
fusion no one had thought to tell Mrs. Lowell 
that they were coming, so the maids had all been 
allowed to go out to see the procession. Conse- 
quently, when the Royalties arrived there was 
no tea until the hostess and her friends rushed 
into the kitchen and served it themselves. It was 
a pity our cake had not been sent there instead of 
to the train! 

After a look at the Public Library, the party 
drove back to the station, and were soon on their 
way West. In honor of Mr. Brand Whitlock Their 
Majesties stopped at Toledo, and afterwards were 
guests of the Hoovers and Blisses in California. 
Later, members of their suite told me that they 
had enjoyed this part of their trip particularly, 
notwithstanding some of the funny receptions 
they encountered at the hands of radical mayors 
who were holding office in some of the smaller 


264 PRESIDENTS AND PIES— 


Middle West communities. Only in New York 
and Washington did officials of the National 
Government receive them; elsewhere the local 
authorities did the honors. The personnel of the 
party changed from time to time, but Mr. and 
Mrs. Brand Whitlock went with them through- 
out the trip, as did the military and naval aides, 
General Wright and Admiral Long, and the Bel- 
gian Ambassador, as well as ‘“‘Bill’’ Nye, the — 
famous secret service man who travels with 
Royalty. 

From time to time photographs appeared in 
our papers which showed the King and Queen 
in swimming, the King and Queen in flying ma- 
chines, or the King driving the engine of his 
train. These diversions must have been a wel- 
come change from the formalities which they 
encountered on every hand. 

While Their Majesties were in the West we had 
time to go on to Washington and get the house 
opened. Cardinal Mercier we had the pleasure 
of meeting at a reception given in his honor at 
the Belgian Embassy. The entrance of Cardinal 
Mercier and Cardinal Gibbons through the halls 
and rooms was most impressive, with a proces- 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 265 


sion of servants bearing lighted candles while the 
guests who were already there bowed and curt- 
sied. The Cardinals, with their scarlet robes and 
caps and venerable gray hair, among the black- 
_ gowned priests and diplomats attending, made a 
vivid picture. It was most interesting to compare 
the two great personages of the church — Car- 
dinal Gibbons, in his eighties, small and very old, 
his fine face full of the wisdom of age; Mercier, 
tall, imposing, full of a princely graciousness and 
kindliness, with the spirit of God shining in his 
eyes. 

As no reigning European monarch had ever 
been in this country before, one may imagine the 
excitement and general mix-up when the Belgians 
reached Washington. From what I gathered, the 
Belgian Ambassador had his ideas on the subject 
of arrangements, the State Department had oth- 
ers, and the Royalties themselves had, of course, 
to be consulted. 

Mr. Long, in the State Department, was, sup- 
posedly, running things, and got the nickname — 
undeservedly, I think — of “ Mr. Wrong”’; this at 
least distinguished him from Admiral Long, the 
King’s naval aide, but made a chance for the 


266 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


jokers because the military aide bore the name 
of Wright. Mr. Long’s house on Sixteenth Street 
Was given over to the sovereigns and called the 
annex of the White House. 

The Belgian Embassy took in some of the 
suite, and the military members were given to us. 
Delightful guests they were, too. One of them 
was General Baron Jacques, the hero of Liége, 
though we soon found that he preferred to talk, 
not about this war, but of the days of his youth 
when he had gone on an exploring expedition to 
the Congo. He was a genial man, covered with 
decorations. Two of the group were old friends 
of mine — Major Dujardin, who had married a 
beautiful widow with whom I had lived when a 
nurse at La Panne, and Lieutenant Goffinet, who 
having lost an eye was also at Ocean Hospital. 

The night Their Majesties arrived, our canteen 
workers gathered in the President’s suite at the 
station. All the way from the train to the motor, 
soldiers were lined up, and many high officials 
assembled to greet the guests. As the Royal 
party descended from the train, a procession was 
formed, the King leading with the Vice-Presi- 
dent, then the Queen and the Duke and the other 


a — 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 267 


‘members of the suite. The Queen wore a soft 
gray silk gown, covered with a long blue coat with 
a squirrel collar, and a small gray turban. 

As they passed through the big room we curt- 
sied and applauded. Now Her Majesty did not 
know that I was a canteen worker, so she was not 
expecting to see me there; moreover, we were 
in uniform, and all looked more or less alike. It 
shows how quick and clever she is in recognizing 
people, for when she saw me she stopped for a 
moment to give her hand before passing on. I can 
well understand why it is that people love her, 
for she does know how to do the tactful and gra- 
cious thing. 

It was after dark when Their Majesties arrived, 
and they drove at once to the Capitol, which had 
been illumined in their honor by hidden lights. It 
was lovely beyond words, gleaming silvery white 
against the velvety-black night sky. A costumed 
choir gathered on each side of the great steps sing- 
ing Belgian songs, while in the center two pretty 
girls dressed as America and Belgium clasped 
hands. 

Next morning, on our way to sign in Their 
Majesties’ books, as is the custom abroad, we 


268 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


noticed that the streets were lined with school- 
children waiting for the King and Queen to drive 
past on their way to the Senate. As we entered 
the “King’s House,’’ State-Department officials 
and servants were scuttling about in the hall, and 
there was a general air of confusion. When we 
inquired about the King’s book, nobody seemed 
to know exactly what was meant. While we were 
waiting another American Minister arrived to pay 
his respects, and he also asked for the volume. 
After lengthy explanations on both sides, a piece 
of paper was brought, and all of us wrote our 
names on that. 

On the table was a bunch of forget-me-nots 
that L., knowing them to be the Queen’s favorite 
flower, had procured for her with much trouble, 
since it was not the season for forget-me-nots. 
We could n’t help wondering whether, in the 
general mix-up, she ever saw them. 

Mr. Gillett, the Speaker of the House, had 
been good enough to give us a couple of seats in 
the Speaker’s Pew in the front row of the balcony, 
so we got there early and watched the other gal- 
leries fill and the Congressmen take their seats 
down on the floor. They had brought their chil- 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 269 


dren with them, an undignified proceeding, for 
the youngsters were noisy and romped about be- 
tween the benches. 

Suddenly the doors of the gallery opposite to 
us were thrown open and the Queen, dressed in 
white and wearing the usual turban, entered, fol- 
lowed by her lady-in-waiting, Mrs. Marshall and 
Mrs. Gillett, and several ambassadresses. Every- 
body stood up and clapped, and she smiled and | 
bowed. Soon the King entered on the floor, es- 
corted by the Speaker and followed by his suite 
all in their handsome regalia. In his fine, brief 
speech of welcome Mr. Gillett described him, very 
aptly, as the ‘“‘kingliest of men and manliest of 
kings.” His Majesty made a splendid appearance 
as he stood there in uniform on the platform, so 
tall and good-looking and blond. His address was 
in English —I had forgotten he spoke with so 
Flemish an accent — and was received with an 
astonishing amount of enthusiasm for a Demo- 
cratic house. 

After the speeches the Congressmen were in- 
vited to shake hands with His Majesty, and they 
gathered about him higgledy-piggledy, with their 
children in tow. One of the Belgians told me that 


270 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


the Senate reception was more dignified, and that 
no such scene as we witnessed could have hap- 
pened in the Chamber of Deputies in any other 
country. But I remember, rather consolingly, hav- 
ing seen both the French and Belgian Chambers 
with their socialistic members get quite unruly 
at times, the men jumping up in their seats, wav- 
ing their arms, and shouting wildly. 

There was a great crowd outside the Capitol 
waiting to see the King and his entourage. As they 
came down the long flight of steps, he made such 
a conspicuous target that I could not help think- 
ing how easy it would have been for an anarchist 
to take a shot at him. This was, of course, only 
one of many such occasions, and it showed, to 
my mind, what an extraordinarily brave man he 
is, for it must take more courage to face a crowd 
like that, in these unsettled days, than to be under 
fire in a trench. Later, though, when I put that 
question to the Prince of Wales, who had encoun- 
tered both perils many times, he disagreed with 
me. At the front, he said, he had expected to be 
killed at any moment, but in a throng he never 
thought of danger. 

I suppose because there were so many fingers in 


THE KING OF THE BELGIANS 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 271 


the Royal pie, the King’s engagements got pretty 
well mixed up. He did, however, accept the invi- 
tation of the Alibi Club for supper, although both 
the State Department and the Belgian Embassy 
tried to discourage his doing so. The club, which 
is famous for its lively suppers, had entertained 
him twenty years before when he was here as 
Prince Albert. It is a small and rather Bohemian 
organization of men who are hail-fellow-well-met, 
and the King is said to have thoroughly enjoyed 
this break-away. 

For entertainment, Nick Longworth sang some 
of his amusing songs, among them the “Funeral 
of an Austrian General,’’ in which he imitates the 
salvos of artillery by sitting on the lower end of 
the keyboard of the piano, and puffing out smoke. 
The club also thoughtfully procured, with con- 
siderable difficulty, some beer for the King, which 
he must have particularly appreciated after his 
long drought. 

Admiral Long told me that King Albert was 
very fond of flying, and seemed to have no sense of 
fear whatever. In a recent flight in a seaplane, he 
had asked the pilot to do some very dangerous 
stunts. Seaplanes are not meant for stunting, for 


272 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


they are much heavier than landplanes and differ- 
ently balanced, the engine being over the passen- 
gers instead of in front of them. The pilot real- 
ized all this, knew the danger involved, and did 
not want to take the risk, but the King had asked 
it, and he felt that he must obey the Royal wish at 
any cost, so stunt he did. Fortunately everything 
went well, and his passenger seemed to enjoy it 
thoroughly. 

While they were on Long Island, the Admiral 
said, His Majesty had been given a very fast car 
to drive, and made the most of the opportunity 
by his breakneck speeding. 

In manner the King is simple, unaffected, and 
genuine. If he had not been born a prince he could 
have been an engineer, for he has a natural bent 
in that direction. Unlike his keen and business-like 
uncle, the late King Leopold, Albert is a deliberate 
thinker, one who patiently studies things out and 
takes his time about reaching conclusions. This 
quality, combined with a strong progressiveness, 
makes him an excellent ruler. In a country where 
the Catholic Church is very powerful, his influ- 
ence has been liberalizing — he has put social- 
ists into the Cabinet with the clericals. But I 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 273 


think his real democracy is best shown by the fact 
that he has sent his sons to one of the big schools 
in England. 

“Tt is good,” he said, ‘‘for boys to play football 
and get their shins kicked by other boys.” 

My next glimpse of Queen Elizabeth came in 
connection with the Cavell-Depage committee of 
war workers, whom she had consented to receive. 
A few months before, Dr. Depage had asked me, 
just as he was leaving America, to start commit- 
tees in Boston and Washington to raise money to 
help in building an international hospital in Brus- 
sels in memory of Edith Cavell and of his wife. 

|Marie Depage, it will be remembered, had or- 
ganized the huge Ocean Hospital at La Panne for 
her husband, who was head of the Belgian Red 
Cross, and had then come over to America to 
lecture and raise funds to carry on the work. Her 
efforts were very successful, and she was returning 
home on the Lusitania when it was torpedoed. 
The last seen of her she was bandaging a wounded 
fireman. Her body was recovered, and from my 
window in La Panne I could see her grave in the 
lovely white sand-dunes overlooking the blue sea. 

It happened that I had also known Edith 


274 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


Cavell; for while in Brussels I sometimes went to 
the British nurses’ home, where I met and talked 
with her. She remains in my memory as a quiet 
little woman of gentle breeding, with delicate 
features and a serene composure of manner. 
Prince de Croy, of the Belgian Embassy, told 
our committee the story of her dangerous work; 
his sister had been condemned to ten years’ 
imprisonment by the Boches for aiding her, and 
so he had first-hand information. 

‘‘When the Germans occupied Belgium,” he 
said, ‘‘there was no army left to stop their onrush, 
so they spread very quickly all over the country. 
People were being hidden everywhere — some 
even in holes in the woods — and they were hav- 
ing a very bad time. When the Germans found 
men in civilian clothes, they regarded them as 
spies and shot them. Three British soldiers es- 
caped from a mill where they had been hiding; 
there were twelve other soldiers, but the Ger- 
mans caught them and stood them against a 
wall and shot them. The three men who escaped 
sought refuge in my home. 

‘“‘One day a message came that a British colonel 
was hiding in the neighborhood, so we searched 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 275 


and finally, with great difficulty, found his place 
of concealment. But the people there told me 
that he had gone to Brussels, to Miss Cavell’s 
nursing home. It was then that I met her for 
the first time. She was offering hospitality to 
those who came to her home and helping them 
to escape to Holland, young girls often acting as 
their guides, and she told me that if she could 
be of further assistance she would be only too 
pleased to lend her house and service to the cause. 

“No praise could be too great for the kind way 
in which she treated the men, some of whom were 
still in hiding nearly a year after the Germans had 
come into the country. She sheltered not only 
British, but Belgians, French, and Russians, and 
in one day had twenty-one Irish soldiers there in 
her house. Finally, rumors of her services began to 
leak out, and the German spies heard about her. 
One day a man came to our door as an escaped 
French officer. We hesitated about taking him in, 
but his story seemed plausible, so we kept him 
a couple of days and then sent him on to Brussels, 
where he went to Miss Cavell’s. She helped him 
across the frontier, but later we were surprised to 
find him again in Belgium; he explained that he 


276 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


had been sent back on a special mission by the 
French military attaché in Holland, but we were 
suspicious and had as little to do with him as pos- 
sible. Later it was discovered that he had been in 
prison for forgery, but had been liberated by the 
Germans on condition he would spy for them. He 
has since been tried in France and sentenced. It is 
the general opinion that he betrayed Miss Cavell. 

“‘One morning in the end of July, 1915, I went 
to her house, and she told me the Germans had 
been there and made a general search. ‘I’m afraid 
I am going to have trouble,’ she said, ‘and you 
had better not come back here any more. You 
will probably be followed when you leave.’ The 
Germans had been very thorough, but though 
four British soldiers were hidden in the house 
when they arrived, they did not find them, and 
she was able to get them safely away. 

“The next thing I heard, however, she was ar- 
rested. At the trial my sister, who had been taken 
also about the same time, saw a great deal of her. 
She was very brave and calm through it all. The 
Germans were never able to prove that she was 
a spy; she merely helped people out of kindness. 
They condemned her to death while many others 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 277 


who had been doing exactly the same thing re- 
ceived only a term of imprisonment. When asked 
why she did n’t sign a request not to be shot, she 
replied, ‘It is useless, because I am English.’ The 
charges against her were espionage and high trea- 
son, but there is in history no precedent where a 
woman has been shot for such charges as were 
made against Edith Cavell.” 

The Queen was especially interested in the suc- 
cess of the Cavell-Depage hospital, for she knew 
the Depages well and had worked in the Doctor’s 
operating-room at Ocean Hospital during the war. 
I was very happy over the results of our efforts, 
which had so far exceeded even my hopes that we 
had $26,000 to give Her Majesty for the new 
institution. The committee gathered in a big room 
at the Longs’ and formed a circle. The Queen 
made a tour of it, speaking to the members as I 
presented them and explained what the war serv- 
ice of each had been, for many organizations were 
represented. 

Her Majesty was exquisitely dressed, in white, 
a gown in the latest French style with clinging. 
lines, but devoid of drapery; over it she wore a 
silver cape trimmed with chinchilla fur. Her deli- 


278 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


cate, sensitive face and tiny stature made her seem 
very fragile. She is not exactly beautiful, but has 
that much rarer and more precious quality we call 
charm, enhanced by an attractive shyness and a 
touch of wistfulness that are very appealing. It 
must have been hard for any one who had not ac- 
tually seen her at work to realize what heroic and 
thoroughly important services she rendered her 
people. A woman of great intelligence, she is, 
besides, a surgical nurse of long experience, and 
became a sort of unofficial minister of public 
health in “‘ Belgium Libre.’”’ Not only did she care 
for the wounded at La Panne, but sometimes un- 
der heavy fire in a cellar near the front lines. 

She came into Ocean Hospital every morning, 
when I was there, and dressed wounds, doing the 
work usually assigned to doctors. One man whom 
she bandaged, I remember, had both legs cut off, 
another a badly shattered arm, and so on. It took 
courage to see such dreadful wounds, and to hear 
men grinding their teeth with pain, screaming, and 
biting their blankets, but in spite of this she per- 
formed her difficult tasks well and never flinched. 

The same afternoon that she received the 
Cavell-Depage committee, Her Majesty and the 


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ROYALTIES ARRIVE 279 


King gave private audiences to former Ministers 
to Belgium and their wives— Mr. and Mrs. 
Lawrence Townsend, Mr. Marburg, and our- 
selves. The Sovereigns stood in the center of the 
room with a lady-in-waiting and an aide near by. 
We had a few minutes of pleasant chat with them 
about old days in Brussels and war-time days in 
La Panne, and peace days in this country. An 
audience with royalty is never very amusing; the 
time is always short for they have to see so many 
people. 

George Washington University conferred a de- 
gree upon the King, the beautiful hall of the 
Daughters of the Revolution being borrowed for 
the occasion. Members of the faculty and those 
who had received honorary degrees from the uni- 
versity sat on the stage, their somber black robes 
relieved with dashes of color from hoods or tassels. 
As I had been given my degree of Litt.D. by this 
university, I was privileged to sit with them. L. 
had an end seat which happened to be near the 
side door through which the King presently en- 
tered very quietly. His Majesty recognized L. 
and stopped to shake hands with him as he was 
passing. He wore a cap and gown, and followed 


280 PRESIDENTS AND PIES - 


by the Duke of Brabant and by President Col- 
lier, was escorted to the platform and given the 
chair in the center of the stage while the President 
made a speech and handed him the diploma. The 
King replied, and then amid much applause de- 
parted as he had come, while the Marine Band 
played. 

The Vice-President and Mrs. Marshall were to 
give Their Majesties the first dinner, but as they 
lived at a hotel they asked their friend Mrs. 
Walsh, the widow of the mining king of Colorado, 
to let them have it at her house. The invitations, 
of course, were sent out in the Marshalls’ name. 
Years before Mr. Walsh had known King Albert’s 
uncle, old King Leopold, through some business 
connection, and the King had said that he hoped 
some day to come to America and visit the 
Walshes. So when Mr. Walsh built the huge resi- 
dence on Massachusetts Avenue, he had a gold 
bathtub made and put into the suite that he 
reserved for the King. Alas, the royal visit was 
never paid, but at least his successor had a chance 
to dine in the house, even if he never used the 
tub. 

At this dinner the gold service was used. The 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 281 


story goes that an order was issued that there 
should be few or no flowers, so that democratic 
simplicity might prevail. From this it would 
appear that democratic simplicity includes gold 
dishes, but bars floral offerings. 

A red carpet was laid for Royalty, however, and 
a special entrance kept open for them. As the 
hour drew near, crowds gathered to see the ar- 
rival. When the royal motor stopped and the 
King’s aide, all covered with gold lace and looking 
older, if anything, than the King himself, got out, 
an old lady in the crowd cried, “It’s the King’s 
son! The King’s son!’’ Everybody laughed, and 
when the Duke of Brabant, wearing his simple 
private’s uniform, appeared, she would not believe 
it was the heir to the Belgian throne. 

Accompanied by a secret service man, the 
Duke came several times to our house, and went 
quietly up to one of the Belgian officers’ rooms. 
The first time he came, L. was notified and went 
to the room, where he found the boy smoking and 
chatting. The Duke expressed a desire to see the 
house, so L. took him over it, finding him partic- 
ularly interested in his collection of tarpon and 
sailfish caught off Florida. I went down and had 


282 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


a few words of conversation with him. He is a 
tall, handsome boy, blond and with good fea- 
tures, delicate, clear-cut ones like his mother’s, 
and — also like her — a little shy, though per- 
haps being only seventeen had something to do 
with that. I remembered him as a child in Brus- 
sels, but had missed seeing him in La Panne, as 
the night I dined with Their Majesties he was 
upstairs ill with a cold. While in Washington 
he went to all the functions that the others at- 
tended, but on account of the President’s illness 
I believe they felt there should be no dancing 
parties for him, so the poor boy really did n’t 
meet many young people or have very much fun. 
But royalties seldom do have any, so far as I 
can see. To be forever trying to say and do the 
right thing, and to be obliged to be nice to people 
they don’t give a fig for must be a dreadful bore. 

Neither could the Belgian officers, some of 
whom did not speak English, have had a very 
good time, especially at the big official dinners, 
served without the wine to which they were accus- 
tomed, and sitting next to important old ladies 
who could n’t speak French. But when they came 
back to us after dinner each evening, we had a 


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ROYALTIES ARRIVE 283 


few girls in who could talk with them, and served 
wine and sandwiches, and had music, so I hope 
they enjoyed themselves a little. 

There were Belgians as well as Americans who 
were not invited to functions which they had ex- 
pected to attend, and some who were promised 
decorations that they had not received, and some 
who had sent flowers for which they had never 
been thanked. As we were in mourning and could 
not go to anything (though the Vice-President 
had kindly inquired if we could dine with them), 
it was altogether very diverting for us to hear the 
gossip. 

The second night of their stay in Washington, 
the Secretary of State had a large dinner at his 
house and the Diplomatic Corps was invited, and 
the third evening the Belgian Ambassador had a 
dinner and a small reception. After this they left 
for Newport News and sailed for home. 

Soon after this, being rather tired, we went to 
White Sulphur Springs, in West Virginia, for a 
rest. The waters were excellent, the air fine, and 
the walks over the hills delightful. While we were 
there the Prince of Wales arrived in the United 
States from Canada. Friends of ours who had met 


284 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


him in the Dominion had written us most enthu- 
siastically that he was a charming fellow, but we 
had little thought of seeing him ourselves. 

In Washington Mr. Perry Belmont’s house was 
given over to His Royal Highness, and the Vice- 
President had a dinner for him there. The return 
dinner was held in the British Embassy, with a 
reception afterwards. A huge reception also took 
place in the Congressional Library, where people 
poured in all the evening. The Prince’s right arm 
was no longer in asling. Some one said that the 
grasp of a cow-boy in Canada had been so hearty 
that it had broken one of the bones in his hand. 
After he had shaken hands for two hours, it was 
suggested to the Prince that he need not receive 
any longer. 

“They have come here to see me,” he said, 
‘and I don’t wish to disappoint any one.” It was 
one o’clock before he finished. 

The Prince did not follow the precedent of the 
King of the Belgians and address the Senate. But, 
like him, he did have tea with Mrs. Wilson at the 
White House, and later visited the President in 
his bedroom, Mr. Wilson wearing for the occasion 
his famous gray sweater. As the Prince was fond 


THE PRINCE OF WALES 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 285 


of dancing, several impromptu parties were given 
for him late in the afternoon, and after the formal 
dinners. 

His Highness’s visit to White Sulphur was kept 
very quiet. The first we knew about it, some 
friends telephoned down from Washington, ask- 
ing us to engage rooms for them at the hotel 
where we were staying. The Prince would arrive 
incognito, they said, in order that he might have 
a few restful days to play golf and write his 
speeches for New York. 

Neither of the distinguished British generals 
connected with the Embassy, nor his American 
aides, Admiral Niblack and General Biddle, ac- 
companied him, but only his suite. Our American 
military attaché to London during the war was 
there, but unofficially, and his wife and niece and 
several charming girls from Washington. 

It appeared that years ago, Edward VII, then 
Prince of Wales, had come to White Sulphur, and 
there all the belles of the South had gathered to 
greet him, and tradition may have had something 
to do with his grandson’s more recent visit. 

The first evening the Prince descended into 
the hotel ballroom and danced with the pretty 


286 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


American girls, from whom he seemed much in- 
terested to learn some new steps. He was not in 
uniform, and looked shorter and stockier than I 
had expected, and sturdier, too. I had the plea- 
sure of meeting him, and L., who knew London 
well, as he had been in the Embassy four years, 
talked with him a number of times during his 
stay. 

Sunday morning there was a service in the little 
Episcopal church, which was, of course, filled to 
overflowing. The Prince attended, with his suite, 
and the Bishop of Virginia preached, the rector of 
the church reading the service. The only unusual 
feature came during one of the prayers. Appar- 
ently the rector had an old Church of England 
prayer-book, and when he came to the prayer for 
the Royal Family he prayed for the Prince of 
Wales, hesitated for a moment and then, to the 
amusement of everybody, plunged on, “and for 
the Princess of Wales.” 

His Royal Highness invited us to luncheon that 
Sunday, his naval aide making a fourth. The 
rooms just over ours — bedroom, smoking-room, 
parlor, and dining-room — had been made ready, 
and when the time came we went up there. The 


(ROYALTIES ARRIVE 287 


Prince received us very graciously and insisted 
on mixing us some cocktails, himself. He said we 
were to lunch downstairs in the sun parlor off the 
dining-room. As we started to leave the room, 
of course I fell back to allow him to pass first 
through the door. But not at all — he said I must 
go first, and was as natural and nice about it as 
he could be. 

During the meal he told us of his trip in Canada 
and of his Washington visit. Remembering that 
his grandfather had known Mrs. Lawrence Town- 
send, he had called on her, and when I remarked 
how brilliant she was, he replied enthusiastically, 
“Yes, a very remarkable woman!”’ When I asked 
him how he found the President, he said, ‘‘He 
looked to me like a very sick man.” We talked of 
the war and La Panne. He knew nearly all the 
fronts in Europe, having served with the armies 
of France, Belgium, and Italy, as well as with 
those of the United States and Great Britain. 
Some one described him as being ‘‘a fighting man 
with fighting men.” 

As we heard he was to play golf after luncheon, 
we did not remain long after the meal was fin- 
ished. He walked with us to the elevator, and then 


288 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


left for his game. Later that afternoon I saw him 
for the last time, as we were leaving next morning 
for Washington. It was out on the links, and he 
was playing very well, in spite of the interested 
crowd that followed him about. 

We heard more about him from the girls who 
dined that evening with him, how they had all 
played games, and how jolly and natural he 
was. The next afternoon they danced again until 
the time came for his train to leave for New 
York. 

The British are all very proud of their Prince, 
and now that we have seen him for ourselves we 
do not wonder. One of the big American dailies 
quoted the words of some noted Englishman in 
appreciation of our magnificent welcome to the 
Prince, and then added a line which seems to 
express our feelings pretty adequately — 

‘* Aw, we like the kid!” 

The last event of the autumn before leaving 
Washington, so far as we were concerned, was a 
luncheon at our house to which General Pershing 
came. He was very jolly and agreeable, and we 
talked of the days in the Philippines and our 
meeting again during this war at Chaumont. 


THE PERSHING PARADE, SEPTEMBER 15, 1919 
From an Aeroplane 


ROYALTIES ARRIVE 289 


Afterwards he and I went to the Liberty Hut 
and both made speeches to open the Red Cross 
drive. Mrs. Baker sang about ‘‘ Pershing’s Boys” 
and the Marine Band played, and the General 
was received with much enthusiasm by the three 
thousand people gathered there — wounded sol- 
diers, nurses, canteen workers, all in uniform. 

It reminded me of the day a short time before 
when the General had led his troops down Penn- 
sylvania Avenue — what a superb sight that was! 
We had the good fortune to get corner rooms at 
the New Willard so that we could see the soldiers 
marching, and hear the bands from a great dis- 
tance as they paraded from the Capitol to the 
White House. 

Down the long avenue they came, in perfect 
order, motors and guns and ambulances and 
nurses and canteen workers, and then the boys 
themselves — ‘‘ Pershing’s Pets’? — what a splen- 
did body of men they were, like Roman legionaries 
in their steel helmets. It gave me a thrill, as it 
had a few months before when I had seen them 
—the very same men, perhaps — at the front. 
What fine condition they were in, and how mag- 
nificently they marched! The most impressive 


290 PRESIDENTS AND PIES 


thing was the solemnity of it all, the absolute 
earnestness of the soldiers, marching eyes front in 
perfect silence despite the enthusiastic cheers that 
greeted them on every side. It made one proud, 
indeed, to be an American. 


THE END 


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